The doves sitting together, breasts beating in sync,
the crickets clicking under a brilliant moon, the
slip of a frog’s tongue snapping an insect from
midair to share with her newborns.
The harmony of the wind and the wolves call,
these things a witness to life.
She hides in the shadows of the forest, her silky
skin glistens radiantly under the glow of the
milky way, translucent beauty, red tender lips
mourn the night, her tears falling to the wet
leaves of the forest floor. She waits for her
love she lost so long, long ago.
© Copyright Vincent Moore. All Rights Reserved.
“Even in the most terrifying moments Poetry & Music must never offend the ear.”