Under the Willow Tree

 

Water ripples,

Where leaves touch glass.

A stillborn pond,

Where lovers meet.

 

Under the willow,

He calls to me.

His voice a whisper,

His body gone.

 

I can see him,

He can see me.

And neither can find our voice,

But we do not need it under the willow tree.

 

I cannot see him,

Anywhere, everywhere.

I cannot see him,

But he is there.

 

I can only see him,

Under the willow tree.

I can only see him,

When the full moon rises.

 

Under the willow tree,

He calls me.

Under the willow tree,

I respond.

Author's Note

Once again, another poem that I don't have anything that I want to be criticed on paticularally.