The Willow Tale
By the willow I lay and weep,
water flowing cool and deep.
My reflection stares back at me.
Hands reach to grasp the grass.
We're often told
soon this will pass,
and we know it will.
Yes, we know it will.
The mind replays on reels
endless.
There are joys,
laughter,
yet
nothing lasts.
Slow it down.
a noir film of silent players,
flickering background
as we struggle with the layers,
folds of midnight on canvass.
An artist can encompass
with a careful stroke of brush
What comes to me in time
will come to all of us.
Let me bathe one time again
in these waters I pretend
life is simple,
crushed roses sweet,
When petals lay beneath my feet.
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