The Moon and the Trees

House of Heart

Beyond the terrace
I pace barefoot through
the garden, past the blurred
flowers that bend their petals
as though they recognize me.
Brilliant in the starlight
the old tree stands apart
as if it needs more space
having outgrown the rest.
I have heard it’s sigh
in the song of a breeze
when it’s limbs reach
for the sky.
I wonder if it has eyes
to hold so much history.
I believe it is friends
with the moon.
I can hear them laughing at us.


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