people are out walking
under the moon light.
three days after the harvest moon.
a handful of souls,
out
strolling in large circles
around
the parking lot.
we stand and talk, we
say something about the moon,
how the clouds
move like silk across it.
we watch as these
people walk silently
in the warm October air.
we hug and say goodbye.
we carry home our food,
we think about
these people walking
alone
between the curbs,
along the empty street,
under the soft umbrella
of moonlight.
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