Painstakingly across the fallow Walking
From all directions, the villagers coming
Unwavering steps, the hamlet behind forsaking
To the river bank, they all were heading.
The moon, the sky still ruling, lambent
Through the wood they all unusually silent
The senesced, vernal as well as the infant
Heedlessly crunching the fall path oddment
By the stream they stood thoroughly expecting
The faintest breeze down...
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