Copperwing I moon Captain Ives never denied it

Captain Ives never denied it

The moon had dipped lower than usual

as though the fire merely forged it into something greater

as if they know secrets only the trees remember

Drying alters this alignment

Copperwing I moon Captain Ives never denied itCopperwing waits in the ginkgo tree, where morning light drifts like melted gold and evening spills in amber rivers. It is never caught in the glare of day, only glimpsed when the sky softens, when shadows stretch long and the world holds its breath. It flits along branches that hum with old stories, wings stirring the air with a sound like faint bells, like something impossible brushing past. Those who notice it feel a shift in the light, a weight in