Loneliness lingers on like the downpour of an endless storm,
seeping into the cracks between the pavement.
Sweet, bitter loneliness.
It drapes the leaves of the willow
with the silence of a longing heart,
like the desperate dreams of a child.

Nightfall creeps into the sky,
covering the sunset with falsely hopeful stars.
It brings the slow, easy breath,
spiraling downward toward a painless place-
sleep.
It is easy, it lets me forget.

Forget the gray clouds frowning down upon the roof.
It turns the pages back softly,
it closes the cover,
only leaving me to open to the same,
sad, place when the sun rises.

The rain now drips gently from the branches,
casting dew across the earth.
Maybe someday I will look out and see the willow again.
My fingertips will shake as I press them against the window,
but I will see the flower.

It is beginning to grow near the trunk,
reaching a hopeful petal to the sun.