Last night the far-away moon looked like far-away winter. The season is drawing closer, though really cold weather is probably some six weeks off, here on the ground. But the moon itself was obscured by a glittering veil of frosty cloud. I fear the yellow hue described in this brief haiku is from the wildfire smoke which has become a subtle, somber presence, nature’s plea that we realize just how closely our lives and actions are interlocked across the world.
Moon Glimpse
High ice blurs the moon
With wan yellow frost melting
Into deep black night.
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