by Brian Theoret
I could see the skeletal shadow of the trees tonight
As the moon shone with an awesome air of light so bright.
Reflecting off the snow the dark hue shone through
Moving, swaying like waltzing crooked fingers urging you to come closer.
Drifts of snow shifted under the weight of the wind
While the light wanes and fades into black.
A pine bough lopped from the main branch
Dragged through the snow
Leaving green prickly bread crumbs
Almost begging for new life as a wreath.
Bedtime calls when the moon is at its summit
Drawing the covers up to your chin like the water to the shore.
Goodnight wolf moon.
Photo Credits: “Moon Shadows” by Arild Heitmann