Beneath a New Moon, Gently

Perfect!

I love everything about this well written poem. Especially the title. Always, Cat

TECHNICAL: 'fears' brought me up short for a moment. In my mouth it's a single syllable, and crisp. But I remembered that you have 'the south'n sound,' and I ended up with the right syllable count. I knew you to be a stickler for the numbers. That reckoned out, I see that it's a very neat, symmetrical summary. ON CONTENT: I, too, like a dark quiet evening in solitude, apart from others and from my own internal shackles--preferably with no small flying insects attempting to flavor my wine. 'Bugs in my wine' might be my next composition. The bugs might listen; I'm near sure the dark and quiet will ignore me, and will resent only my one useful candle. See? Your tiny, jewel-like poem is already a spark to tinder. Thanks.