Willow

Everyone always assumes
why you are a weeping
willow
If they cared
enough to ask
they might come to know
how
sweet sap flows
to every tip
of every whip
on every crackled limb
If they could see
in every
bough
a memory
of some clambering kid
now
grown up
tearing up
at your helpless tendril stems
they might start to know
how
you could remain standing
while being
a willow
weeping

©2019 JEREMY RUZICH