POETRY

A Crinkle in the Moonlight

A moonlit poem

Moonlit forest-Photo by William J Spirdione

Branches lift just slightly, cold and sparkly.
Senses warbly. Frozen snow so crinkly.
I’m slipping faster, further, no matter
how far the path’s before me. Dawn’s splatter
spreads across this silver night.
The moon shines brightly. Branches dip politely.
I’m here. Not spritely. Still walk uprightly.
Keep myself wound tight so not to shatter.
Those brightest…