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