WILLOW
The wind whispered secrets
to all the lovely trees
blowing through there leaves
and nudging the trunks.
He talked to every single
tree none was left forgotten
except the tiny Willow tree
not yet grown tall.
The Willow cried onto the
ground soaking her dry roots
not only did she grow that
day she started something else.
Her tears flowed straight
and drilled a line into the hard dry
dirt. A stream now flows
lovely and free.
Rambling to the Willow.
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