Portrait of the Artist as a Lone Tree
The feigning moon is out,
she throws her shadows through the trees;
witnesses to kissing,
leafy lies that no-one sees.
Oh moon, oh trees, what things you see;
your rustling in the night
will never make it right;
in listless rhythms silver-shine,
embarrassed by the sight.
Then tell me, do you know,
from endless scenes like these -
which girls are false, and which are true,
beneath selenium trees?
(Selenium is an element whose name is derived from an ancient name of the moon, ‘Selene’; it is grey, and perhaps best known for its use in copying.)
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