In the black

ball of the sky the

weary moon tries to

outdo the

stars,

but it is too much

for the ancient fool!

The haystacks, like sliced hot

dogs

sauced in

black, blend into the deep grey

night, and are recklessly in

denial.

The wind,

though icy,

coddles the darkling

landscape, yet

nothing roosts.

She

pulls out the short

thick

rope

from her college

bag, fixes it gloriously to a

tree

branch, slips her young

head through the rough

circle,

and kicks out into the

empty world,

her lips

silently

forming the short word,

“ Alone”.