Heard in the night

 
The air smells rain
In ponds of moon light reflected               
Shadows dance slow leaf shaped
Old age gossips of trees 
In the humming of wind
A soft headed old oak
Twitters scattered fragments
Of secret love affairs

 A willow catches them
And bends over the flow
Of underground waters
The tales like an echo

 I have always been told
Whispers a poplar tree
That as for love affairs
After the sun la pluie

 What’s worth a tale of tree
Whispers back a wild rose
I have always been told
Never believe
Never believe
What a tree sees.

photo : http://newilluminati.blog-city.com/living_the_dream__tree_changers.htm 

Comments

[amel]

"The tales like an echo", your poems too!
Please, do not stop in that way.

[Coquefredouille]

I love it so much my dear!

And the old tree said that a poet was born again today.