An old willow with hollow branches
slowly swayed his few high bright tendrils
and sang:
Love is a young green willow
shimmering at the bare wood’s edge.
An old willow with hollow branches
slowly swayed his few high bright tendrils
and sang:
Love is a young green willow
shimmering at the bare wood’s edge.
Daily wind
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poetry by Robert Ford
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This one is brilliant ! I really like it. He is one of my favourite poets anyway.
Mine, too. This was one I had pinned to my corkboard back in New York. Perhaps it’s time to pin it up here.
Yes, it reminds I am now 71 and can still keep going.
Right. Same here.
Reblogged this on From 1 Blogger 2 Another.
Thanks, Douglas, for reblogging this WCW poem.
Well done Leonard!
I just found those last two sentences so lovely. My Daisy, our Cross Lurcher/Alsation when we rescued her was called “Willow” but we changed it to Daisy.
It’s one of my favorites of his.
Really beautiful!
I agree.