Photo by David Babayan on Unsplash
by Diane Gottlieb
The tree outside my window lifts his dark limbs toward the moon. He thinks I don’t see him. He reaches higher, then still higher as the midnight minutes pass. I know I should be sleeping–I shouldn’t be watching. But how does one sleep when the tree outside one’s window is hungry? How can’t one watch while a tree swallows stars?
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Diane Gottlieb writes poetry, nonfiction, and fiction—all of it true. You can find her at DianeGottlieb.com and on social media @DianeGotAuthor.
