Sleeping Willow
In a great big valley, between two hills
A willow, stands broken and bent
Her crooked shadows play on the ground
Her bark, now jagged and spent
An old cracked swing hangs on her branches
Where laughter used to reside
A couple of holes buried deep in her heart
A place for the squirrels to hide
The breeze ever gently caresses her hair
As if he's trying to console
A creaking is heard down deep in her joints
The years have taken their toll
She's afraid that this winter might be her last
As she stares out across the hill
Watching the stars all take their places
As the breeze grows quiet and still
The very next morning the flowers awake
Stretching their arms toward the light
The breeze shakes the willow to give her a kiss
To find that she died in the night
In a great big valley, between two hills
A willow has fallen asleep
Well past her prime, a product of time
Leaving just the flowers to weep
Copyright © Larry Belt | Year Posted 2012
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