The Web

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The Moon is caught in a web

A net of bare tree branches

Tossed by the Wind

The wild, wild Wind

Who loves her pale beauty, glowing coolly

Stay and be my Love!

He cries

The dark coils of the mesh 

Close tightly around her

Holding her fast

The clouds of her hair

Blow in the wind, drifting loosely

I must go! I cannot stay!

She cries

She does not fight the trap

Afraid of it rending her

Tearing delicate tissues

Anguished are her eyes

Down the curve of her cheek drops a tear

I cannot give my love

Captive

The Wind throws off the snare

Freeing his dream

Of happiness and love

She looks upwards towards the sky

Hearing the stars singing, smiling sweetly

Go! Cries the Wind

Broken-hearted

The Wind moans through the forest

Tormented by his lost dream

Bewailing his lost Love

Dawn, my sister, beckons me

With rosy finger, says the Moon

I will love you in freedom

When I return

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Poem Written in: Pickle Lake, North-western Ontario | July 1979