Where the Willows Were
by Joshua Coffman
Trees, they came with outstretched hand,
To offer peace to our small band.
Ere we could pay a recompense,
The trees moved on in si-a-lence.
Softly they whispered their good-byes.
We waved, and smiled, then began to cry.
The whispering strands that tickled our ears,
Was fading away as we wiped back our tears.
The whistling wind came by now and then;
But the whispers were silent.
Sometimes I would think of those glorious trees,
And dream of them playing with little bumblebees.
My mind would go back to those precious happy days,
When we rollicked and frolicked and always did play.
My heart would be saddened, and tears again fell.
I cried out “Injustice!” and felt bitterness swell.
The others had taken that which was so dear:
My peace and the whisper of willows in my ear.
But as I began to ponder and to think,
The truth became clear, and my face became pink.
My blush turned crimson as I realized it was I.
Not Joey, or Sally, or Someone in the sky.
It was I who stood where the willows were.
Comments
Post a Comment