I liked how the moon was low
hanging fruit on the newly
budding tree.
The blossoms seemed to
reach out, blindly grasping
for another tree's fingers,
fruitless, but the blues
of the sky
got in the way.
I liked how the moon was low
hanging fruit on the newly
budding tree.
The blossoms seemed to
reach out, blindly grasping
for another tree's fingers,
fruitless, but the blues
of the sky
got in the way.
