A Weeping Willow Tree

I don't know whether she's still there. And nor do I really know why I even care. For so many years she never crossed my mind. But Daddy always taught me not to be the forgetting kind. It would be nice to see her being gently touched by the wind as she weeps painlessly. An old weeping willow tree arrested my thoughts today after many years. There was nothing sad enough about the thought that grew a tear but, in my heart, I feared that the willow tree may have met her demise. In my memory, I saw her as stable and strong, a coveted shade provider at the time. Back when I was just a boy, she seemed older than the house in whose yard she grew. I remember her well, a striking site ascending in fields of cotton, not far from a lovely pond popular with ducks. Perhaps one day on a leisurely drive with my lifelong bride, I shall ascertain her present status. And only then shall I be satisfied. 060223PS