Hidden Love

by Mary E. Lowd

March 10, 2021

When the trees hold the moon
In their branches
At night
Twigs becomes fingers
In mere phantom touches
Their caresses reluctant
For what if the moon saw their love?
What if the moon didn’t requite?

Trees reach with longing
Their love simply becoming
A haunting, beautiful sight

* * *

From the book:  Some Words Burn Brightly: An Illuminated Collection of Poetry

Next poem: Implication
Previous poem: Albedo Effect

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *