Under a Willow Tree
Under a willow tree summer’s wind blows.
Skies darken like the depths of the deep sea.
I lay quietly as so no one knows,
Watching nightlife emerge as daytime flees.
Flickering lights illuminate the night.
The soft chirps of crickets under my shoe
Where flowers rest in the palm on my right
A bouquet for my mother to find a new.
As if the ring never left her finger
A pot of flowers planted in its place
Or shaped into a bracelet lingered
With me she will stay beneath this glass case
Under a willow tree time frozen
A home where happy thoughts are chosen.
Copyright © Erin Lynch | Year Posted 2015
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