The Long Green Return

For walking home under the moon, holding up the lantern you were given. Fireflies rise from the grass one by one and mark the stretch of path your light cannot reach. You retrace the morning's route in reverse, yet the forest at night wears a completely different face. A gut-string lute and small harp sing a rising melody while a muted cello answers warmly from below. Sounds gather one at a time over the A Mixolydian color and then leave again, one at a time, in the reverse order.