Just as the night was fading into the dusk of morning, when the air was cool as water, when the town was quiet and I could hear the sea. I caught sight of the moon no higher than the rooftops. Our neighbor, the moon. An hour before the sunrise, she glowed with her own sunrise. Gold in the gray of morning. World without town or forest, without wars or sorrows. She paused between two trees and it was as if in secret, not wanting to be seen. She chose to visit us so early in the morning.