• With arms like viney whips it lashes in the wind
    subconsciously waving away friend or foe.
    Leaving him alone in despair to let its rough lanky tenticals
    batter on himself with rage
    as the breeze gains wrath from shores of little distance away.
    He hangs low with pity as overwhelming droplets
    land brutally on his face.
    and when tides yeild, and the rain halts.
    The moisture gathers as one drop of sorrow
    flows softly down the facade of the gentle Weeping Willow.