The Suitor
A crescent moon slips through
The branches of the elms
Like a girl opening
The door to the room
Where she sleeps
Beside her father,
Taking care that
The hinges don’t creak.
She knows that
If he knew
She’s in love
It would make him miss her
Mother more,
Which is why she takes
Such care with doors,
Slipping out of the dark
House like this moon
Slipping through the branches
Of the elms I stand
In the shadows of,
Waiting for her.