Dear Willow Tree

Dear Willow Tree

Dance with me, dear Willow Tree

You make an old heart young— at 93!

I always marveled over the stories your rings carry

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

Those tales etched in bark bleed into my past

To a blissful youth that faded too fast.

A youth 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 is no longer mine.

As I lay this heart down upon your sacred moss

I long for your memories to water my loss.

My last year’s crave for those feathered leaves

To embrace me lovingly and rock me to sleep.