Saturday, March 15, 2008

I'm not sure what fascinates me so

...about the way pussy willows grow.
They start so early - lined up in a row
and show themselves when there is still snow.

Their bark is tough like cold-clad leather,
they swing in the breeze as if on a tether,
grow magical hair that is soft as a feather,
and don't give a damn about the weather.

Whispering secrets in the air,
they grow in winter's final stare,
without leaves on branches bare,
with us, the secrets, will not share.

Maybe, never will know much
'bout secrets willows share, and such.
The secrets that we cannot touch
cut twigs are mute while in a clutch.

The pussy willow loves to be
hanging high upon a tree.
The secrets aren't for you and me,
but for the birds and nearby tree.

I leave them grow for spring anew,
their leaves will follow with the dew.
Although they don't share secrets true,
each year, I simply MUST have a few.


2 opinionated prattle:

Stan said...

Very good Plumma, captured the essence of this little bud, alwaysthe first sign of spring.

Shana said...

If you listen I bet they purrrr....great poem...but there are NO pussy willows in Anchor Point yet.

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