willow tree, on a lean
branches surround me gracefully
I go to touch your silky leaves,
but the wind takes them away from me.

where do the dogs go when
they chase the silver moon?
they hunt the night, stars in sight
that come and go too soon.

I wish to lie in a bed of grass,
surrounded by the night sky and city.
though not the jungle I prefer
the skyscraper lights look so pretty.

take my breath away, natural humming high
but not quite, as magnificent
next to the multitude of constellations
reflected in your eyes.