The moonlight falls

into the room like rain

silver rain that doesn't wet

the surroundings

I am looking at the momiji tree

in the middle

of the garden

when I realize it is my yard

my garden

my little enclosure

that is in my dreamscape

The leaves are silver

as if the blood had turned

to a precious metal

a precious substance

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My eyes wander back

to the clocks before me

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