across

a slant falls perpendicular
to the earth,
slipping shadow beneath dusky leaves of ivy--
hidden places gather secrets
silky as cobwebs,
though woven with much more care.


night breaks the silence,
as these hidden places open to the stars
and release a dewy trickle of whispers,
of all the deeds thought buried in this soil,
all the tragedies this garden remembers
without comprehension--
a repetition innocent as the first buds of spring
pushing, pressing on the flagstones;
as nothing more than a reflection
of the way things are
by moonlight.


--
Title is prompt. My brain interpreted it as both across and a cross, so I tried to pull aspects of both into the poem. Turned out odd.