Hawthorn breaks a smile in the hedgerow,
whispers a truth
that, easily forgotten, delights again
and the indoor pain is lifted a little

The green is almost angry
demanding attention like a fat toddler
or peacocking buffoon
that somehow still wins hearts

I cried yesterday
despite spring’s giving relief as backdrop
anticipating a warmth
that still evades my fingertips

Her name was Hawthorn
She had long thin limbs,
But was sturdy and unwavering,
People came to her for shelter,

And like a willow she protected them,
Her name was Hawthorn
Just like her name she flourished everywhere,
She was strong.

She was a bastion,
Strength to those who had lost theirs,
Her name was Hawthorn,
Nothing could hurt her.

Until she fell in love,
Heartbreak rotted her through,
Even the strongest oaks fall,
Her name was Hawthorn.