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Night, Unreasoned
and reason fell to bed
as the yellow moon
climbed the Eastern bare-branch
trees.
and tendrils from a long-forgot fire
reached upward, skyward, starward
for what they could not grasp.
what they could not warm.
what they could not know.
what they could not...
and reason fell to dreaming
as the stars timided, and spoke
and somewhere, lost in snow,
a simile curled dry lips
and reason slumbered under
all-the-horizon somewhere in
the glowing sun
and reason was forgot as a poet woke
-ShhDragon
Copyright ©
Stephe Watson
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