Sun at zenith
June’s dance
unfurls
Moon through
midnight sky
throbs silver:
& bittersweet
whisper of life
slices.
She runs through
bindweed to
copse’s edge
a circle of trees
tremble above
her head
& the fox cubs
call a baby’s cry
‘’Mine all mine’’.
Downy heads
& sleepless
nights
small hands
curl on velvet
breast
now in
churchyard
laid to rest
rimmed in
moonlight
roses left
she watches.
Sun at zenith
mid-summer
sky
full moon
whispers
‘’Not I, not I’’
& is it true
she passed
the test
of time?
”All mine,
all mine…..”
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