when she fell,
not moon, nor wind responded
'an abysmal fall, indeed, '
was the carnal cry in the woods
'he who shelters such a wand
will surely be understood'
and the words fell like lightning,
one sunless morning of half-regret-
which quickly turned into a noon of wonder
Spiros Zafiris
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-moments-2/
