Photo Source: PxHere Lunar Fog What hides in the mist, inside places you don’t look, at night, when all the sounds are muffled and birds are menacing dark silhouettes against a flexing crescent? It’s called fear and comes chugging and rumbling and screeching on the brakes like a train at full speed over a ramshackle bridge. Haiku of the Volcano Like steel to fire gliding as proud ladybugs from a dying world In the Darkness of Flowers and Frames Frames, zooming, and...