In tent, half moon and stars shine light land trees, pond drying, grass damp, kissing hot lips in cool air, hearing distant sounds, like a Gladiators arena, savage men shout, cry, anger anguish.
A small animal dies, snatched by the mouth of a fox, a surprised yelp surfaces, cut short by silence, the end of life accepted by nature’s ceremonious hush.
We snuggle spoon, release energies up to the moon and fall asleep gently rocking on each other’s body waves, waking before the sun rises and the tent melts.
weirdwildwords 