The Night, a poem

She becomes the night

As she levitates to the tops of the trees

Divine winds cocoon her flesh


Rocking her through the evergreen


As she continues to float


She becomes a part of the night


Passing the stars


Whispering to the moon


Sweet chants of Hecate, triple goddess


Bewitched by the howls of wolves


She is home

-ER BUENDIA

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