This night was one for the ghosts
Who haunted the conversation
Wrapped in ever-present fog
As the water kept rising,
When going outside was an act
More of defiance than midsummer
Dreaming, the rain cocooning
Every slug and snail and tree root
In a ghastly wet embrace, love
That will give forth beauty
Long after this evening has drowned
In the mouth of a forgiving bog
That so improbably preserves our criss-
Crossed phosphorescent trails of laughter
In a lit room in a small hall in the dark.
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