The moon wanes stars fade
I’m convinced I am on track
find my ankles swathed in stripped bark
resort to torchlight find my bearings
I have roamed westward pulled up before
ploughing into a broadening eucalypt
I right wheel and a Froglet
risks a leap across my path
and even tonight with
the new moon surprisingly golden
stars rampant in all directions
singing me from dark to dark
still I cannot read the sky
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