Weeping Willow
there’s a willow
that sits
on the edge
of a ripple
her hair
left long
and golden
tousled and untamed
a fountain there
sprays a mild mist
a balm against
a summer sun
scent in a whisper
the mist
mimics memory
of an untold
story
as legends go
her leaves fell
in a whirling winter
leaving the bark bare
a lamp without shade
the trunk burned
by day
in embers of rain
the bark
took her tears
and etched them
against the grain
and when night
the moon
a slice
the coolness
of the stars
like snowflakes
that disappear
in sleep
there he dreamed
a good dream
as he stood
by the ripple
the promise
of spring
her hair
all around
the dream
eternal
TL