# In the willows

Дарина Юрьевна Татаринова

The water - still like mirror dark and vast -

Reflects her form, so willowy and fair

A quiet hush of memory that's passed,

A soundless note that lingers in the air.

The moon - a silver disc in velvet skies,

Paints shadows on the lake, on waves they creep,

Her nightgown's like phantom before my eyes,

With eerie glow, while all the world's asleep.

The branches sigh their whisper in the breeze

As moonlight bathes her face in ghostly light,

She seems a creature born of ancient trees,

Lost in the beauty of the silent night.

So fragile there, beneath the starry dome,

A lonely spirit, longing for a home,

She hangs there still, beneath the heaven's glow

And skies and earth for her and ebb and flow...