The Willow Tree

The wind blows,

From the east to the west,

Carrying with it all of my pain.

The rustle of the leaves on the trees

Can be heard from underneath my covers.

Head smooshed beneath a 

Fortress of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals from Aunt Suzie.

Woosh, woosh, woosh

I hear the leaves say.

The willow tree outside my window speaks to me.

It's leaves and branches droop low to the ground.

Meeting the grass with a subtle kiss,

And then the

Woosh, woosh, woosh again,

And the leaves the color of green on the stoplights,

Sway slightly above the ground, 

As if to taunt the grass.

I escape from my cave of warmth and look out the window,

Examining the leaves I hear rustling among the breeze,

I notice how the trees' leaves are bound together,

Like skinny jeans on your calves,

Just loose enough for breathing room.

Willow tree leaves stay bound together

Until an outer force breaks them apart,

Like a man kidnapping a mother's child,

Or until the leaves are no longer living.

Why can't the world be like the willow tree leaves,

Intertwining with one another,

Forming that bond to stay forever

Not allowing an inside influence break them apart.

Woosh, woosh, woosh.

I hear the willow tree sighing,

Just above the tears I am crying.