The nightly sky was licorice

the trees were chocolate foam,

the moon was sighing happily

and seemed to feel at home.

The dogs were dancing gangily,

their shadows lit the lawan:

silhouettes we’d never heard

that nighttime seemed to spawn.

The flowers gambled gracefully

and cheered like winter mice,

while groundhogs bounded through the air

and trees thought thoughts of ice.

For even on the autumn nights

when dark’s still winter-warm,

the cold is coming (white and sure)

and quickly as the dawn.