Face returns its shadow via simulated moonlight of the screen.
Effort rumored to be perfectly derivative
reflects a mother's vintage kindness.
One gentles forward, breath against the page,
as if thought remained as vivid as insistent pulse.
Mind's fever for survival trespasses on the urge to reproduce.
Otherwise the need to lift the child from threat.
Cherishing only when deemed safe to breathe.
The trees show time by branches dancing.
Each limb turns with wind.
Life to be watching.