("I could still call you") Comments

I woke with foreboding - the feeling not dispelled with waking -
and rose to catch the full moon dead center of a blue, oval window
made by foliage in the woods. Its setting so fleeting I stilled to
watch. I fought fear who once had none. Coward, I said, afraid.
No one gathered the small, wild apples stippling the ground. The
moon, a white owl flying off. The dream was I was thinking fear-
lessly.
...
Read full text