Her Willow Weeps
like a hush …
sentinel …
the old willow stood guard
his branches, stout arms that held her
safe in childhood
supple limbs hugged and
flexed whene'er she sought blue sky
his embrace of lush fronds
let no rain wet her brow ...
their sweep offering but a kiss of gentle breath
and cool shade in the heavy
press of Summer heat
while shimmering strands of light
illumed her play time …
all her life he had gallantly charged her safety
but oh, how he weeped now from
his twisted old roots
as to-and-fro she swayed
at the end …
of a rope.
Copyright © Gregory R Barden, September 22, 2017
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