It’s subtle. It cultivates mystery. I shiver.

I brush the hair from my eyes exposed to October’s night air.

A thousand crimson leaves applaud my presence.

I know I should be sleeping, but I surrender to this middle-of-the-night moonlit high instead.

Like a ghost I slip, isolate starlight in my skin, glimpse my moon shadow on the earth.

I want to see this; floating, ethereal, eyes closed.

The scents of the night intoxicate: rustling pines, damask rose, daphne, the smell of burning oak like whiskey.

I refill my well.

Under the night sky I feel complete. I feel undone. I feel found. I feel lost—if only for a little while.

And I want to go higher still.

Just for tonight.

Enjoying the part about enjoying the journey…

or whatever.


copyright © Kelly Huntson and 2015-2018. All rights reserved.

*originally published Oct. 2016