a poem for willows

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Date: May 29, 2024
Categories: Blog

love affair

I ate my lunch among the willows,
chewing shyly, like a timid lover
on the brink of intimate touch.
those two big trunks creaked in the wind,
sounding like a minute from breaking,
as they have for many a moon.

above the leaves a quarter moon
squinted down at the willows.
the wispy clouds were breaking
softly to show the sky as lover,
stroked by a gentle wind,
quivering blue at her touch.

I stretched my hand to touch
silvery leaves waving at the moon.
my hair moved in the wind,
dancing in parallel with willows,
who whispered to me like a lover.
the crust of culture was breaking.

my fears & rules were breaking,
melting under the confident touch
of my swaying, rooted lover.
knowing the rituals of the moon,
these wise & playful willows
were changing colors in the wind.

we raised the song of the wind,
from mouth & branches breaking,
I & the beautiful willows.
they buzzed under my touch,
my cheek on their bark. the moon
gazed on the waltzing trees & lover.

all afternoon the glow of lover
followed me like a tireless wind,
carrying sweet scent of the moon.
a secret smile kept breaking,
while my skin still felt the touch
of whispering, shimmering willows.

my lover’s murmurs are still breaking
patterns in a wind of feral touch.
with moon as witness, I kiss willows.

from Rhymes with Pillow, © 2012 Sandy Eastoak


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