This tree, in the moonlight shroud
Snow glistens underfoot
As brittle as windows
The air grasps, sharp, and seeks out
Those warm places
Where I still feel the old world
Those places
These bones
Time has no names for wanderers
Evergreen points drift down
Every so often
Landing in white wonderlands
Here where all things are forgotten
Across the way, the shadows
Hunched among themselves
Ponder crystals on tree bark
And never heed passersby
For shadows are busy things
Words fail here at the tree line
The very air cracks at the thought
In this depth, this night
The moon hangs, solid, closely set
I would touch it, but do not
The shadows might disappear
Copyright 2004 Endifference
Copying this work to another webpage without author permission is plagiarism.
Plagiarism is a misdemeanor, usually punishable by fines of $100-$50000 and up to one year in jail.
Comments on This Tree, These Shadows