Running with breath through the moss <br />I come up along the window of your sight. <br />You stand there still taught and tight two tips <br />pressed against my eyes as your Payne. <br />Still your attitude is not as the wind ever <br />shifting me around <br />without sound as you listen ever brighter never <br />burning out. You hear the moan you see the owl <br />settle down in featherless sound at your feet. <br />The dance of the oak this night as leaves feel <br />braces sigh while limbs bow down exposing <br />the home of the owl narrow across but deep inside <br />in song with the heart. <br />You list to the right and its left moving as if in sleep <br />so deep you miss the touch inside the moss as it <br />swims the air you breath. <br />Back on your side the moon out side reflects off you <br />even brighter as you roll over again now sure.<br /><br />Is It Poetry<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-the-wind-moans-moon/
