The trees are there in the dark.
They tease and deceive me.
Weaving their jaded filigree against the night sky.
Leading me off and away in their rock and sway
to forget where I belong.
Lost in the song of wind in the trees,
needing to be found among the intricacies
of branch and bough – needing to find you lover,
to be found: if you open your arms, if your lips
part once more to capture my breath, then lover
I will be lost, lost to you and undeceived.
Come to the window at dVerse