The full moon emerges full and bright
Only to be covered by the street lamp's light
As cars whiz by apathetic with speed
Near a lowly dirt path rarely been used
A path marked by dogs and the humans they lead
And the prints of a mare scared and bemused
And whenever rain falls upon this path
The soft dirt becomes much softer and moist
Even as the old prints are washed clean away
New tracks shall appear, each telling its tale
To be told to those who listen when dawns the next day
As cars whiz on by the old dirty trail
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