Cloud over Barlaston

Soft little clouds

Fluttering like bird feathers

Swirling down the air currents

Darkness falling

Now the moon rises

Shadows lengthen.

Time to stretch our legs,

Head home,

A long, flat walk

Into the dusk.

Bat’s flitter overhead,

Moths race to our torches.

Mistaking them for the rising moon.

Home in time for supper.

Blue sky lost in the dark….

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