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IsisMoon's blog - subscribe mysterious wild transforming

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A poem...
A poem...
this one is a work in progress...

some days they dance with her...
the open leaves...
she sits by the old tree
waiting..
a tiny girl, with tears.
arms wrapping around her knees
embracing the ache of alone....
scrunched on topĀ 
of the large rock
peering into the water
..it appears,...
one tiptoes *shhh* across the creaky floor
pulling the other one close
holding hands, but not yet hearts
they smile with their eyes...
Dancing to the new moon
somewhere endless
where the beginning never starts...

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