November Moon

Tonight, a Hunter Moon hangs bright in the sky,
No longer hidden by a blanket of clouds
Left by afternoon storms that transformed
Streets into mirrors, reflecting barren trees.

I walk in silence, gazing at the lake
As if it were a mirage, the road deserted,
Lonely, forgotten and November cold.
Such incredible beauty…
The faint light illuminates a rising mist.
Why does nature’s beauty
Carry  sadness in its midst?

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