Moves Like Clouds

In the deepest part of the forest,

I climbed a tall oak tree,

hidden, in secret,

to watch Isabella

dance in the rain.

With witchy grace,

she moved like the clouds,

piroueted across the forest floor,

dead leaves crunching

beneath her tender feet.

Oh, how I wish I could

whisper in her ear

to tell her she reminds me

of the ocean

during a storm,

a graceful disaster.

How she possesses

more power

than the flame

and more mystery

than the night.

How I wish she could

whisper to me

and tell me

the secrets

of her life.

-Jo Resner 2/19/18