The Palm
A palm, I said on Sunday
As I stood upon my bed
Looking in a window
At the outside overhead
I saw a smear of moonbeam
That screamed out yesterday
Then watched the shallow sun arise
While bright stars fade away
I whispered to a waning willow
Weeping on the street
Why so sad, my troubled tree
What dream has caused you grief
The willow said that sun does blind
Those shadows all deceive
Black earth is damp upon my feet
No longer I believe
So, trash the vexing memories, said I
Let the past rewrite each lie
Turn that icy barb of fate
From sorrow - now don’t cry
Written 08.23.2025
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