You Want Me To Write

You Want Me To Write

You want me to write about willow trees

their resilience

or maybe how the limbs bend, but do not break

as if I should compare myself to such graceful beauty

but I cannot...

The willow tree that I lovingly planted in our backyard,

a tiny sapling with tender, delicate leaves

sprouting along narrow yellow branches

is dead now

Too many harsh winters, followed by early springs

She grew so tall, shading our swing set throughout many summers.

Children climbed her enormous trunk, 

and I would shout into the wind for them to be careful

"Please do not fall"

"Please do not break her branches"

Even then I knew she was fragile,

much weaker than she appeared

One late winter morning I awoke to an ice covered wonderland

the sun dancing off of her branches

I sat on the sofa, and as I gazed out the window, 

I heard the painful cracking of her limbs

The weight of the ice, 

finally

too much for her to bear

I cried as I watched, knowing deep within me,

that she would not survive

Maybe I loved her too much

or not enough

You want me to write about willow trees...

Was this what you had in mind?

Angela Minard 2014©

Watercolor painting by David Minard