Combing the willow’s hair
is a wind cold and autumnal.
It twines about soccer players,
and curls into secret places,
places lined with leaves and
cushioned with damp wishes.
Thoughts are birds
zigzagging in branches
alighting on bobbing twigs
in the willow’s bouncy house.
I remember tadpole wiggles,
looking for dangling legs
between the sunspots and
cherry blossoms dotting
the burbling brook.
In that thin suburban wood,
I found a tree too young to climb
and other places I couldn’t follow.
The willow’s house invited with
a knob of bark for a handhold,
a limb wide enough for a teacup.
Its leaves held all the stars
from sundown to sunup.
Now I follow my daughter there,
and the magic hasn’t gone.
Giggles, leaf mold, and secrets
crown the twilight willow world.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Happy Friday the 13th! So close to Halloween, the day has a spooky feel. It set me remembering once, when Friday the 13th fell on Halloween itself. Or am I inventing that? I love to invent things, after all. I hope your memories are playing fun games with you today, too. Hello to all from Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Wee Words for Wee Ones. Kids of all ages are welcome here. Have a magical weekend!
Lovely magical willow. Please give the tree a hug from me! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Will do! 🙂
LikeLike
Brenda, when I moved into that split level house with the hot pink door, we had a medium sized willow. I loved at grades 3 and 4 yo hide under these golden branches. I like how you called the blossoms “stars” and how you capture the way yhe wind is blowing and all it touches. I used to feel the soft branches’ warm whispers on my cheeks and in my ears, Brenda.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Willows are special trees. I’m glad I reminded you of happy memories. 🙂
LikeLike
The words you used in this post were beautiful. I liked the phrases and ways you described the magical pretend place you go with your daughter. She will always remember your part of the magic. ♡
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am lucky to have her. She is a treasure.
LikeLike
Willows are surely magical places, Brenda. You capture the sense of magic so well in your poem! I have wedding photographs that were taken beneath that bell-shaped canopy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a magical place to be married. I have wedding photos by a cherry tree, about to bloom, a cloud of pink behind us.
LikeLike
Love hearing about the willow’s leaves holding the stars, but those nearly final lines touched me, Brenda: “Now I follow my daughter there,/and the magic hasn’t gone.” We have returned to one tree for my own children, and now my granddaughters. It is a wonder to see, although not still in the family.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I smiled when my daughter wanted to hide under a willow, as I had done when I was a kid. I wish it was the same tree. And I wish I had a picture of it. It brought it all back.
LikeLike
I love this, reminds me of childhood and sunshine:)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, that’s what I was trying for. XOXO
LikeLiked by 1 person
yes so warm and lovely xoxo
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely poem, Brenda! The lines: “Its leaves held all the stars
from sundown to sunup.” especially resonate. We don’t have willow trees here in Tucson, but I love visiting places that do have them. =)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I grew up with willows in my yard. They are a magical tree, full of secrets. 🙂 Ours had garter snakes, poison ivy, toads, squirrels, bird nests. A whole different world was under those branches.
LikeLike
This is beautiful!!♥ That’s a lovely thought, returning to a favourite place of childhood with your own child, that must be very strange – in a nice way. I would have loved to have visited some of the places my parents played. Love your picture of the willow, haven’t seen one of those for many years. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, to confess it was another willow. We can’t really go back. I think they filled in the brook. But the swaying branches made it all come alive again. I remember staring so hard to see the legs.
LikeLike
We had a willow tree at our old house, but it never grew large enough to climb on it. I love the wind combing the willow’s hair and following each of the images throughout the poem. Lovely!
LikeLiked by 1 person
We had big old willow trees. I don’t think the circle of earth under them ever saw the sun. 🙂 Thanks for reading. XOXO
LikeLike
ah, the willow’s natural bounce house –
LikeLike
Have you bounced on a handful of willow branches? I remember doing it as a kid, before all things fun came in bright plastic.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes!
LikeLiked by 1 person