Willow

by

M. W. Anderson

 

 

The southeastern light
From Ft. Lauderdale reflects across
The still face of the canal
As I contemplate
A Tarot reading’s
Deeper meaning
Beneath a battered willow tree

An alligator screams
In the dark
And in stillness I realize

That we two
The Willow and I
We persist even though
A wrathful season has left us
Scarred and broken
A mere vestige of all
Once taken for granted
By brash and naive Fools

For tonight we are companions
Humbly content as if
Nothing painful ever mattered
As if hurtful stains—now barren
Were never borne of Love
As though Children of Spiteful Gods
Had never learned
Of our weaknesses
As though Winds of Change
And Desperation
Had never howled our names

For tonight the past slips away
Like the thin veil of
Luminous clouds that glide
Towards a three-quarter moon
And the Everglades
Old wounds seem as distant as
The twinkling stars masked by
The drifting clouds
Above

I lift my eyes to see
Resilient green reborn amidst
Branches scarred and broken
And together we find
The Willow and I
Harmony of a kind
In a peaceful moment’s passing

 

 

 

M. W. Anderson writes, paints, works and lives in Coral Springs, FL. He is the author of The River Past Midnight (his first poetry collection, published by Naked Snake Press), and co-editor of The Last Pentacle of the Sun: Writings in Support of the West Memphis Three (a benefit anthology, co-edited with Brett Savory). His first short story collection, Miniatures Macabre, is forthcoming this spring, also from Naked Snake Press. While in dire need of an update, a sampling of his art, fiction and poetry can be accessed at his website.

 

 

 

 

Have comments you'd like to send the author?
Please e-mail M. W.