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 the air when it comes

Lingers on the upturned tips

The quiver of anticipation

And then release

All nights are lonely night

Filled with the ache

For the company it can keep

Whine 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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