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Open Poetry #47
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The withered willow
| Open Poetry #47 |
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The withered willow |
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mikeandrew Member
since 2010-11-18
Posts 198
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The withered willow no longer holds its head up high instead he bows his head and dies, there is no funeral no one to mourn this giant who stood tall above all no longer do we hear the willow's tongue speak when winds blow across parched limbs forever mute only a line of shadow remains to cast beyond its plot his roots lay dead in buried coffins beneath its trunk. |
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| © Copyright 2011 mikeandrew - All Rights Reserved | |||
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The_Doctors_Angel_32 Member
since 2011-01-14
Posts 337Florida, USA |
This is very beautifully written. The way you describe the death of a willow was perfect. It is sad to see old trees wither away when they were once great and beautiful. When the family is together, the soul is at peace - Russian Proverb |
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JerryPat Senior Member
since 2010-10-30
Posts 1991Louisiana/America |
Ah, the last of the willow given a fitting memorial in the lines of this well-constructed poem. ~ Why Do Gorillas Have Big Nostrils? / Because They Have Big Fingers. ~ |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
You missed seeing one mourner. I was there, but I was standing far away, so as not to intrude. I love trees very much, and have an indigenous forest (a small one) for my garden which brings me serenity when little else can. Your poem was very beautiful. Owl |
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steavenr Member Elite
since 2003-11-17
Posts 4058 |
love the words you've captured to paint your tree-scape...excellent write |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
You missed seeing two mourners, mikeandrew. I was there too. It seems that makes three of us. Ida |
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