Tangled in the loving slender arms
I would knot the ends
To make a swing
Under my willow tree
It sat next to an old farmhouse
Deserted since the depression
Along the banks of
The Wapsipinicon
Untamed grandeur
During a storm
I climbed into her knotty divide
The tree held me
Like a mother cuddling me to her breast
I wanted to be that willow tree
Its soulful sway
The ability to stand firm
Throughout the worst
Give comfort to anyone seeking it
Someone took an ax
To my willow tree
As if a nuisance
Without regard
For all it endured
Barrenness now resides
Where life once lived
My beautiful tree
I weep for it
Because it wept for me
Did you read Czeslaw Milosz's lines: 'Not hat I want to be a god or a hero. Just to change into a tree, grow for ages, not hurt anyone.' Your poem reminded me of his goal, as did another poem in this month's Poetry magazine. Lovely. thanks! BFS
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
May 2006- This poem was the winner of the 33rd Annual Mississippi Valley Poetry Contest, the Mississippi Valley category, it is also nominated for the Grand Prize. It will be read along with the other category winners at the Butterworth Center in Moline, Illinois on May 20th when the grand prize will be determined. I'll let you know if it wins. Thank you to everyone at Poemhunter for the encouraging words.