Willow

Willow

 

Bower trash her calling

Home to locust plague

Sallow branches yield

To callow child and snow

Tendril kisses blown

Seized by rigid kin

Blot concealed, she

Strokes the sacred air

Shedding first the last of light

Abiding tempest ire

Bowing in submission

To choke in rotting soil

Rapture wakened far below

Carnal wages stoke the mire

Surface puddles welcomed

By the honeyed ground.

Amber vessels waking

Passions rise to thirsty limbs

Life inhaled, a willow breathes

The first to whisper – green.

– Kathy Sutherland