Willow don’t weep for me.
Back in the summer
I hid in the shadows
of your leafy canopy.
Now you have left me exposed
waiting
for the winter of my content
which falls every year
as the lost leaves
turn golden
then brown
with decay
then white
with the silence
of the first snowfall.
I’m waiting for it
to blanket me with light
and make me smile.
Willow don’t weep for me.
Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Apogee, Firewords, Capsule Stories, Gyroscope Review and So It Goes. Find Lynn at: httpsss://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and httpsss://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/
Latest posts by Lynn White (see all)
- Winter - 21st December 2021
- As Winter Falls - 13th December 2020