Dear Willow Tree

Dear Willow Tree

Dance with me, dear Willow Tree!

You make my old heart young— at 93!

I still marvel over the stories your rings carry

The timelines you’ve traveled, the souls you have married.

Songs etched in bark tell tales of a past

Of a blissful youth that faded too fast.

A loyal heart plucked from the embrace of your roots

Replanted in a pot full of charcoal and soot.

Oh dear tree, how I have changed with time.

This body is old, and this soul, wise,

Yet something within me is no longer mine.

My shivering heart lies upon your moss

As I long for your memories to water my loss.

My last year’s crave for your warm, feathered leaves

To wrap me up fondly and rock me to sleep.