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