rejectomorph | Moon Again

Gradually released from the cloudy veils, the moon grew bright and brought the first distinct night shadows I've seen in what seems like ages. For a while, a few clouds lingered and, against their moon-washed brightness, the pines ceased to be dark clumps and became detailed silhouettes, branches and clumps of needles etched inky black as the moon set behind them. The deer who wandered up the block last evening never returned, as far as I know, though they might have passed while I was in the garage.

One of the boxes I cracked open was filled with old magazines and newspapers, including a few issues of the San Francisco Oracle from the late 1960's. I have no memory of where I got them. There were a couple of the old, folded tabloid style issues of Rolling Stone, too, and a stack of the Evergreen Review from the same era. The most interesting box I've opened yet. More boxes tonight, I hope, if I have the time.

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