A tree in the shape of a monster

A monster in the shape of a tree

The edges of bushes were full of them


These edges

Have been separated by thin streamy paths


On a moonlight night of winter, these paths shine

And appear like perilous strings of gold that flow

Paths that pour you like a funnel

Into the well

Behind the rusty rock


The well,

Where illegal couples converge

To share a cup of illegal kindness

And lots of stolen love

A kid like a monster

Whom the moon rules

Combing the dew-filled grass with his feet

Picks a path, among the golden ones

That separate the edges of the bushes

Pouring him to the well of love


Galaxies of men, women and youths

Doing self-mortification

For the integrity already flown out of them


Guilt that shrivels the conscience

Leaving sons and daughters of men hollow



On the kid

Whose love for his mama we know

Comes over, crying

To distract mom from the man he calls uncle

In an empty stomach


9:38 o’clock

And, the galaxies of stars are eavesdropping

To hear what goes on

Around the well of love.