The Blood Moon

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The Moon rose red

And we slipped through the shadows;

Like wraiths of smoke

Silently twisting.

We ducked under lights

And slipped in the Garden,

And under the nightflower bloom

We sang the old names.

The wind rolled through clouds

The thunder boomed in the east

And still we sang and danced round the tree.

If it was rain that hid us,

As we slipped back to the real,

Who was there to say

How we shone under the Blood Moon?

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