Deserted Island

 

Great Willows of our earth, why do you weep?

You shade the weary.

Bring splendor to the land.

Declaring your perimeter.

 

But still you seem gloomy.

Do no nests fit into your droopy grooves?

Do no children sway from your weak branches?

Do you hate being exclaimed a weed,

being measured to a dull dandelion?

 

However still we plant you.

Still enjoy your glossy green leaves.

Still sleep in slippery grass underside.

 

Laying beneath.

Sun rays sneak past defenseless leaves.

To join with us.

Under a bubble of branches and green.

 

But we use you.

No place for your own nature.

To nurture, utilize your own bark.

Unearth nourishment naturally.

 

But I shall be the one.

To leave you on an island.

To watch over the seas.

Then back down on me.