The night is quiet…too quiet
Everything still as the indrawn breath; a silent pause before some cataclysmic event
I look to the tree across the street
I cannot see it, but I know it is there
The darkness of the desert is complete
My breathing slows, almost stops in an effort to not disturb the nights' meditation
A light…small, not quite red, peeks from the horizon
I go on alert, senses flaring, hunching down in my position a little more…
Can I be quieter, smaller, am I covered?
I watch as the light comes towards me
Eyes never veering from the target
All other senses reaching out to protect my position
Is it getting larger? Wider? More red and ominous?
I have no idea what it is
The utter darkness in which it breathes offers no reference
It wavers; no! …a steady march…my mind plays tricks
A distance off…no shot marked
I shift positions for better view
I breathe…a soulful sigh
It is simply the moon
I watch the steady rise
Shadows creep like fingertips from the grave
The familiar is now my enemy
For in the shadows of the rising moon
Nothing will be called friend
Least of all…imagination
The tree is now a silhouette
Black in the pale moonlight
The desert breeze begins its' journey
The tree, a mournful, eerie ballet to the applause of others
The company joins in
Bats call to one another
Lonely dogs howl
A cat moans its' pain in the distance
The dance continues
The memories flow
Graceful arms of the eucalyptus reach out for the breeze
They whistle and dance in macabre undulation
A tear falls
The tree is old; does it know?
Does it store the memories of battles past?
The dance a freakish memorial to souls lost
Has it ever seen love?
No…I do not believe it so
For if it had, the dance would not evoke tears
…Nor rend the soul
Enchanted night
O how I beseech thee now
Take me into your fold
Warm me from the winter chill of the desert
And thoughts that eat away at the soul
Inviting arms of
Mournful tree
Cry not for me
Dance your dance and know that I am safe
For the time being….
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