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