A Child Beneath A Willow After Reading Othello Poem by Edmund Wong

Dear willow, please tell me what I should do,
When the evening sky has lost its hue,
And winter’s sacred white is overdue?

Say willow, say that I can never be
One dancing among many like a bee
Chasing honey round an evergreen tree.

Sing willow, let’s sing and share in our sorrow,
Till my hair grows grey and your leaves turn yellow;
Let’s reckon that which attends every morrow.

But willow, you know you have much less reason:
The meek rill seeks to your heavy boughs christen,
While the bright, steady stars over you glisten.
You need not sing, willow, but only listen.