I've been stolen by the stillness, maybe that's what it is. I've been wandering my hometown for hours, and no car has passed on the back streets, no midnight walker, no front-porch sitter.  Just the headlights that flash down Queen Street, crossing the bridge on their way to someplace. A dog barks at me, but if he wasn't stuck behind his backyard fences, I might mention that he could howl on the moon. Soon it will be full again, but tonight she's just a Halloween sickle, shining orange and sickly to the mirror river, through the restless mist. I feel the clouds kissing my skin, moisture begging to be let in. But I'm already something like 60% water, so I'll be saying no for now...

April 28, 2017
Bridgetown, Nova Scotia

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