My Friend the Willow
May 2, 2019
--
A poem
The soft-furred willow,
a host for ardent bees
who hum and plow,
leans across the path
to brush skin and
stroke the passing
stranger in his straw hat
and high black boots.
That was the day the
strong wind cracked
her bough and sent it
broke lowing to the mud
and the jackdaw stole
the new buds for his nest.
Now she bursts a bloom
of sprig from busted limb
and beams of life anew.
©
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