Mother’s Weeping Willow
by Dianne Moritz
Mother carefully snipped
a small, green cutting
from a friend’s lush yard,
set it to root in an old jam jar
on our kitchen window sill.
Us kids were intrigued,
as fragile shoots spouted,
buds of leaves unfurled,
like baby fists, opening
to streaming sunlight.
Sometime later, Mother
carried an elfin sapling
outside to our backyard,
placed it in the warm,
rich, fertile Iowa soil.
We watched in wonder,
watered & tended the tiny
tree, doubtful it would
survive the scorching
summers, harsh winters.
But we learned that Old
Mother Nature is shrewd,
and by summer’s end
our tree grew four feet,
as tall as me, and thrived.
How we loved that willow!
We’d hide beneath its boughs,
to read, nap, and daydream,
a safe haven, our spot
to plot our next adventure.
Mother’s Weeping Willow
is gone now, chopped down
for firewood; yet, it remains,
in memory, a testament to
life’s transient beauty….
HAPPY EARTH DAY!
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 4:04 PM UTC
Mother’s Weeping Willow
by Dianne Moritz
Mother carefully snipped
a small, green cutting
from a friend’s lush yard,
set it to root in an old jam jar
on our kitchen window sill.
Us kids were intrigued,
as fragile shoots spouted,
buds of leaves unfurled,
like baby fists, opening
to streaming sunlight.
Sometime later, Mother
carried an elfin sapling
outside to our backyard,
placed it in the warm,
rich, fertile Iowa soil.
We watched in wonder,
watered & tended the tiny
tree, doubtful it would
survive the scorching
summers, harsh winters.
But we learned that Old
Mother Nature is shrewd,
and by summer’s end
our tree grew four feet,
as tall as me, and thrived.
How we loved that willow!
We’d hide beneath its boughs,
to read, nap, and daydream,
a safe haven, our spot
to plot our next adventure.
Mother’s Weeping Willow
is gone now, chopped down
for firewood; yet, it remains,
in memory, a testament to
life’s transient beauty….
HAPPY EARTH DAY!
