limpid eyes glistening in the sun's dying light,
she lives within a tangled thicket of thorns, leaves and feathers.
the calls of the birds that nest in her wild hair her cries,
her voice a whisper of leaves in the rain.
seedlings silently grow in the moist bark cavern of her womb,
her body a maze of ivy, she shivers incessantly in the wind.
night falls, and she raises her trembling branches to the skies,
to embrace the newly risen moon.