Tip-tap-tap, they went, beneath the blanket of the quiet stars. The grass stood still, holding its breath, making way for the small, invisible march.
Where do the footsteps go? Nobody knows. Not even the sun, who sleeps so soundly behind the curtain of dreams. Follow the sound, or perhaps, stay a while and listen.
Did you hear that? A soft laugh, like a breeze, passing through the leaves. It's a secret, I think. Shhhh... Hear the echoes dance and play.
Whispers from nowhere, like breath on a chilly morning. They speak of things untold, a fairytale in shadows.
Tip-tap-tap, they went... and perhaps, they'll never stop, tracing stories in the cool evening air.
To the moon To the sun