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What the Willows Said


Have we ever torn our roots out of the clay
and lumbered into your city to hang
our boughs on your arms? No. We weep

where we stand. When we heard you coming
from a distance we thought you had finally
come to ask us why, but all this time

you've been weeping in our shade
you've never once wondered what it is we are
weeping for, and when you do look up

you look through our leaves to something
beyond us. It's a shame. We could offer you
more than a place to hang your harps.

We could offer you consolation.
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