Meet me where the river meets the oak

At the foot of the hills, I will wait.

Hidden between the moonlight and the shadows,

Waiting for responsibilities to sleep

And your time is mine once again.

These stolen nights are all we have been given.

Let the wind pick up your steps, muffling their intent

The soft lapping of the water, hiding our words

Promises spoken in hushed nights

And broken as light reflects on the water.

© Manivillie Kanagasabapathy