The night covers her like a blanket-
the moon is full, round and bright.
This is the closest she's felt to being alive-
this is when she feels at one with nature.
The leaves scramble like squirrels across her vision,
a game of tag on the chilled night air-
she wonders if they know that they are the fallen beauties,
that they are the dead.
Somewhere, far off, by the sound of it,
an owl hoots, calling to its partner, but perhaps,
its signaling its existence, just like the rest of us.
its forlorn sound falling upon the ears of the girl.
The girl stands and walks the trail,
disturbing the swirling chase of the reds and oranges,
a game of freeze tag, where the caught fall, lifeless, to the ground.
She is silent, the moon casting shadows on the blowing leaves.
There is nothing particular that she searches for,
she just wanted to be one with the world.
nocturnal by nature, she could not refuse the temptation-
her home in the night's embrace.