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Moon Oaks
February 2, 2016
The moon hangs above these winter trees,
My screams matching the streetlight intervals.
A looming glow.
My fate,
Filled with spices and homely duties,
Drawers filled with old lovers.
Haunting through each boil,
Softening my work,
For my love.
Bigger than the moon,
Fatter than the Oaks,
Darker than this midnight breakaway.
This looming present.
© Nicholas K., Weldon Spring, MO
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Inspired by Plath's "Winter Trees"