I gaze at the stars above the towering trees, and what do I see but the gentle look of reprimand from Her.
Will I ever be free of censure?
The moon drifts out from behind a cloud and my eyes follow the fluffball as it cruises the sky.
My eyes drift closed to the soothing sounds of cicadas chirping and the lazy hush-hush of breezes blowing agains the tall columns of grass.
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