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Old Man Willow
March 18, 2014
Old Man Willow stands looking,
Far below and deep at his reflection.
His trunk groaning and roots hooking,
Letting his fingers touch water with affection.
The surface shatters in its dance,
Struggling to ripple on by,
Old Man Willow pauses, as if in a trance,
Then releases the water with a sigh.
With a creaking of branches, he straightens his back,
And brushes the leaf-strands from his face.
He taps the river bank with an echoing crack!
As Old Man Willow returns to his place.
© Reisha R., Bowie, TX
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