The canyon bleeds, then deepens and darkens ... A sliver of white moon in the east. Thin Light spills into the gorge and the river sings an ancient song. At the edge of shadow, night: dark stone, pine scent, water, cascading Light.
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Dusty cobblestones glow in the darkness I walk out thinking the moon is illuminating them but the sky is only pinkness A city engulfed in its own smog and light Red sky prophesies say this is the end of days A lone frog singing says the days will last Outside I am overcome Inside I am too big for my own cage Shining intensity at my own smog It glows too brightly to see the moon or stars beyond I wait for a shift For things to end Or for a miracle that will come and clean everything Like the rain the frog is calling