In a silent wood

In a silent wood
a presence waits.

The only sign
that he is there
is his breathe
as it drifts
through the bitter air
and swirls across the moon.

He waits,
as he’s waited
for far to long
to recall.

He waits for her
as he promised
all those years ago.

He waits at the place,
though the moment has passed.

He will wait
for as long as it takes
for the promises made
to remain unbroken.

As he waits
the only sign that he is there
is his breathe
as it drifts across the moon
and vanishes
into the vast night.

In a silent wood
he waits.