Friday, January 30, 2015

Moonlight through willows

June 2, 2013

Moon light stretches her thin fingers
Through the gold willow leaves
With a touch so soft it stiffens them
No wind tonight to whip the limps
This way or that,
Just bent shapes in the dim night
And the shake of some internal shudder
Again, then again, and again,
The kiss of the air when it comes
Lingers on the upturned tips
The quiver of anticipation
And then release
All nights are lonely nights
Filled with the ache
For the company it can keep
Wine sipped but rarely consumed
Red lips lusted after
But barely assumed,
This night of all night
Struck with prickly edges
 Of need with a moon teasing
Full of promises before it fades
Living limp what it so excited
Casting into dark
The upturned protrusions
It once made quiver
And near the willow’s roots
The all-knowing river flows
Having reflected on moon light
For so long, and its suggestive promises,
It accepts in the end

Whatever gifts the moon will give 

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