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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