Half My Heart

The River by Lisa Barnes

There's a new moon made of glass

hanging over the mountain,

and an alabaster shawl

draped along its slopes.

Nine swans huddle at the river's edge

and my solitary heart

is floating in the mist

along its shore.

I have lived in this valley

for fifteen years,

with only half my heart,

and I am still just a visitor here,

perched, like Raven,

on the topmost branch

of the jagged scrag,

gauging the horizon,

gathering my wings

in readiness

to fly.

for Karin's prompt at Real Toads: halves, by half, halvsies. Day 19.