Moon's Lantern

The sun hasn't set yet. It hasn't fallen below the horizon. Blurred watercolors

are still visible at sunset. A beautiful glow from below shimmers,

trembling in the darkness. People are ghosts. They wander somehow uneasily.

In the kitchen, the burner's flame flashed without and lit up again.

I warm my hands. I'm warm now. I want to warm my soul

too, but my soul isn't warm. Wrap yourself in a blanket.

Don't tremble. The shadows of the trees dance. The streetlights sway.

The moon's lantern hangs in the sky. And shadows run after us.