by Kara Emily Krantz
The weeping willow whispered to me, wrapped me
in her draping fingers
and allowed me to Be for a while.
(I never could forget that smile.)
He was there; I glanced at him with grace in my eyes,
and his fingers played upon strings
as his voice offered melodies to the sky.
I wanted to say something, but I didn’t even try.
There were too many moments
colliding into that one October night.
and I could barely decipher the moonlight
from the soil beneath my hands.
My patchwork dress wrapped around my legs;
I gazed at the ground by my side,
I could feel the willow’s roots beneath me,
her feathery promises around me…
and quite suddenly I felt safe in the world.
He was far away, where the music was, and
I was alone with the weeping willow and the stars.
All these moments were there -between us-
as moonlight danced upon water
and I contemplated how deep the willow’s roots reached into the earth.
We drank from that bottle of wine / as though it would somehow stop time;
as though the music would never end, and
that tree could weep forever.
As though that tree would weep forever.