Deep in the dark forest,
where the thick, reaching flora barely lets the moonlight reach the floor.
where the oil black waters lap constant on the canal walls
all the creatures, go on
feeling their way and crawling cautiously forward
through the blanket of this shadow world
a luminous globe is borne by chariot.
lugged in and left, alone, in the leaves, under the trees.
its dim glow drawing out the creatures of the forest