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Blood on Willow Leaves
May 30, 2018
The willows flutter, flow like wings
Of hummingbirds. The branches sway
And float in gusts of wind, the soft
And gentle, breath of God–whispers–
To shield, defend, the willow’s slight,
Faint fragility. Little white doves
Are tentative, are bound by tours
Of terror. Roaring wind begins,
Rattling once present spells into
Two doves’ irreverence with shrill,
Stark shrieks. Their claws are razors apt
To kill–with blood on willow leaves.
© Charlotte H, New York, NY
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