Ode to a Weeping Willow (day 1765)

Oh my heart if it could be strong
But weeping, and I’m going home.
With your cool breeze rustling
My cool knees in this early spring daze.
Are you really calling out my name?
Or have you decided to plant my seed
Into the horizon with a beautiful sunset
And calling out to the midnight bullfrogs
Who echo deeply off this thick bark peeling.

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