Walking behind the barn,
I remove my clothes,
In the faery light.
Padding across near frozen grass,
Avoiding earth mounded molehills,
I settle against the young walnut.
I grasp a limb with one hand,
My guilt and shame with the other,
As I begin a familiar movement.
So many conflicting emotions,
Associated with this action!
How long until I find freedom?
I glance up at the moon’s bright eye,
Then become transfixed by the play,
Of light on the branches.
For a moment I am lost in her ghost silver glow,
But fear overtakes me and I release early,
Rushing to the climax in my haste.
As the chilly air caresses my skin,
I clean up and get dressed,
Released from her spell.