Night Garden
A harvest moon glowed, silvering in the midnight spread. Stars dotted the endless sky with not a cloud in sight. The railings felt fragile against the bold surroundings and looked like the tiniest breath would knock them over. By the garden path I stood, grey stones jabbing my bare feet as I walked – until the garden stalled me. Trees loomed like fey spirits, willowy and elegant. Beneath their clustered livery, shoots reached for dew drops falling from their glittered canopy. Flowers: once the pride of summer, they now had retreated to rule the earth in the beginning of winter. Snowdrops swayed in the humid breeze, catching moonbeams in their wake. Early honey suckle climbed the aged brick wall, filling the air with its sweet nectar scent. I drifted, moon-dazed.
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