The Willow Weeps
I feel left bare
naked of charm
the mystery of me
when in fullest delight
as left a shiver
so quick as the fall of the night.
My fruits that fed,
shelter to the storm,
the hidden lovers, undiscovered,
and their laughter upon my throne.
What of me now?
as winter as called,
no lovers delight,
to rest at my feet,
for I am the willow,
taste my tears
as I weep.
Copyright © Ann Anderson | Year Posted 2008
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