We went for a walk at dusk yesterday. It was a cool, quiet evening with a gibbous moon teasing shadows out of the twilight and fireflies winking across the lawns like fairies. As we walked, night strolled past trailing darkness in its wake. We spoke in hushed voices. Then, on the far side of the neighborhood, I noticed a thick piece of chalk some child had forgotten on the sidewalk. I picked it up and wrote:
Gossamer fairy was here dancing in the moonlight
I wish I could have been hiding in the shrubbery this morning to see the expression on the chalk-child's face.