A white curtain moon held firm
The center of a dark night.
An immense canopy of darkness
Grasped the eyes of the living and the dead.
The shadows of night slip through picket fences
Disturbing only the mist and while stepping
Over sleeping dogs.
A church bell calls night to order.
A lone bird lifts its voice.
Clouds creep in like the feet of trespassers.
Roger Singer 