Moonlight draws the crowd closer to the sound
Searching for shadows eaten by the nearby ground
Was it a cry or a scream of a boy who has yet to be found
By the party taking snaps of tears falling on the mound
This is the day, the last of summer as they say
People should be jumping for joy and not dismay
But it seemed like November has come early this May
As the shots are heard on the colorful end of day
Tiny steps walk towards the tiny gaps above
A growing smudge of red fills the cover of the glove
Worn by a person smiling, showing some love
Who later cleans his hand as he shakes the escaping dove
Yakapin 