Sister of the Moon

Her bare, delicate body shines under the light of the full moon.
She hides in the depths of the forest, where know one will find her.

Her hair sinks in the water of the lake, pulling her under.
The forest falls quite.
It looks as though she will never resurface.
Yet the moon always pulls her up,
the light shining in her dark brown eyes.

Her hands drag through her heavy hair, letting the water fall at her feet.
Her silky bare body, gliding from the lake, to the trees of the forest.
She lies in the moss of the forest floor.
It surrounds her, holding her tight.
She looks like a baby deer, seeking comfort in itself.

She cries, cries to the moon.

She is, at that moment.
A sister of the moon