Moon Trees.

The scent of magnolias
with their clean fresh beauty.
Now almost fallen
trodden to earth – face down left dying.

A child’s unwavering conviction
suspended from the wishing tree.
See how it swings expectantly; longing
to be cut free.

How to remain human on such a day.
Cry down deep, such innocence
into the mistrust of human life.

If I were not me, I would push
back those years –
I’d press
my face, flat against the glass
no turn of head no show of pardon.

Let the moon go wash its lonely face:
an indistinct eclipse; left shadow less
in all its misunderstanding.


Poppy ~xx~
April 18th 2015


One thought on “Moon Trees.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s