Moonlight

Just a breath,
a whisper
of the tattered,
ragged wind
lazily sifting through
prickly branches,
unaware of the spectacle
about to unfold.
Minutes dragging by under
the white orb;
Here an aging leaf
falls.
And shadows rustle forward,
drawing close,
tension overtaking the
empty air.

A boy-his head nodding
fatigue,
sweat glistening on his
creased brow.
They meet- friends and
mutual enemies:
A wild tree and a
sickly lad.
The seconds stilled in the
pressing time,
images flashing of the past,
of the daunting future.
He slips inside, agony
mounting,
silence settling naught for long under
the silver queen.