Dashing through the will-o-wisps

Singing a lullaby of lackluster

The stars shine and echo into our palms,

(The only light in this dismal song).

Slender fingers intertwine.

Ebbing lanterns fill the streets

Glasses of wine chime in the windows

The moon aligns with our silhouettes,

Dancing on our small white shoes.

My heeled, black boots

Make me long for those

times we would wander in sneakers

Through woodlands until dawn

Broke through the branches.

But now the magic

Settles onto fallen red leaves

We stomp while frolicking and

Fracture the stems

Break the spell.

It makes me wish upon a sun.