Dusk's tapestry recedes into night and a shell of mist embraces dew. Moonlight ploughs the sky-fields, shadow seeds burgeon into stalks of starlight. Thin lace of breeze acts as a third strand braiding an ageing willow's hair, moths nest between her slender twigs; finches hark to distant creases of a lake. Webs of light mushroom the sky: emporium of all that breathes. Lanterns twitch in hands of night, like fringe on eaves they harbour on docks of penumbral mysteries, illuming pathway to sunrise---