Night... The quiet swaying of the branches of an old poplar tree outside the window with the full moon surveying its possessions... And there is nothing closer to the yearning soul... Everything is in its place... The moon... A growing gusty breeze... Heavy thoughts... And there is nothing scary in this picture of pale colors full moon, piercing gusts of wind, thick darkness of the night... Only the stub of a candle in the middle of the table, a tiny particle of light, burning out, fights for its life, for its existence, for its calling to give people light and warmth. There is still time - there is still hope for the lonely shadow on the wall...