Summer Night

The branch below me cracks,

faltering my steady grip.

The moonlight filters and

the leaves cast shadows,

shadows of a summer night.

The dark warm air circles,

embracing my aching soul.

The bark is rough and rigid,

like a friend's hard-working hands.

So I hold it tight,

like I did back then,

on that long-lost summer night.

The moon is high,

yet the world's alive,

beneath me there is chirping.

I listen close,

and soon I hear

those words he softly whispered.

Words which are only heard

in my secret summer night.