The moon, the sun’s mirror, keeps slivery watch. Eery eyed Dog starts up, glares at the torchlight. Trees of starlings clatter, burst into shoal. Pheasants set off clockwork whirs of wing. Over an arterial river geese call, ducks call. Cows are bleary in the shadowed fields. Boots scoot through thin mud. Ice is forecast. It seems warm for the hour, for the season. All those feathers, holding in some heat.
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