The Trees caressed the bare
rounded underside of the full moon.
The leaves leaving delicate trails upon the scars
and craters that dotted the skin.
The branches guiding and gliding across the bright
newness.
Tantric in their timing,
the scene unfolded through the night
and into the dew laden morn.
A stranger approached as the memory
evaporated with the days new promise.
the Birds who bore witness were silent.
The trees had barely the time to notice
before
the roaring screams burst forth from handheld
saws.
The Moon was alone when night came again.
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