moon-trail

Updated: June 20, 2025

There certainly was no romance left in the country, though it had seemed almost as though there might be, when her Man of the Desert sang and all the little night-sounds hushed to listen, and the moon-trail across the sand of the desert lay like a ribbon of silver. It had seemed then as though there might be romance yet alive in the wide spaces.

B. M. Bower - Starr, of the Desert

MacRae battened his hatch covers, started his engine, heaved up the hook, and hauled out of the bay. In the Gulf the obscuring clouds parted to lay a shaft of silver on smooth, windless sea. The Blackbird wallowed down the moon-trail. MacRae stood at the steering wheel. Beside him Steve Ferrara leaned on the low cabin. "She's getting day," Steve said, after a long silence. He chuckled. "Some raid.

Bertrand W. Sinclair - Poor Man's Rock