i miss them
those rare nights
the last one at the fire
whose soul died hours ago
embers glowing slowly
the slight crackle
every now and again
the rustle from the wind
running through the trees
the flutter of bats
soaring the sky
where the moonlight
acts as a second sun
illuminating the area
glimmering off the lake
with it’s soft tides
gracing the sandy beaches
striking the stone piers
the gravel under my feet
scraping the bedrock underneath
i hear a loon call out
deep in the thick of the lake
echoing through the grounds
the sun will rise soon
but now the night dwindles
as i rise up to retire
the cold strikes my body
as i head down the path
to my single tent
as dawn breaks
i take it all in
i cherish it
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ace mars lest july