Weeping Willow Poem by Minnie Gehrig

in the ways of the willow,
i bend i twist,
i study my trunk,
i reach my branches,
stretch up in outward
look n see this
scar, where love couldn't resist,
carving its initials,
pure bliss,
bleeds sap,
i am
all that n more,
see where the children climbed up my branches,
till joyfully weighed down, they swept n almost kissed the ground,
n then the blackened arm where lightning kissed,
shuddering its fire up like this/
n a girl writing in her notebook,
forever finds solitude,
n the shade of my leaves,
my weeping consoling her from the sun.