Five minutes, uncensored, for the sake of writing.
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GO
I would escape beneath its bending branches
at recess.
Everybody else could have the swings
and the teeter-totters.
There was no place like the haven
of the Weeping Willow.
I could pull on its branches
that swept the ground
and still they would not break.
They could bare my weight with ease.
I could disappear into its leaves,
safe near the trunk of this tree
and be me, vulnerable and free.
I loved that Willow tree.
It was my friend.
Like the way Shel Silverstein personified
The Giving Tree...
that tree - was my shelter and refuge.
There I could dream
and pretend
and believe in the magic of living.
I could be anything and everything.
I could be alone or with other friends
who embraced the Willow's dare
to see more and be more.
Like Lucy who entered the wardrobe,
I was transported between the sway
of tearful twigs.
Imagination was alive,
and so was I.
Six years old and four feet tall;
underneath the blessing of a tree.
STOP
Your writing was so descriptive, I felt like I was with you under the tree. The repetition of the beginning and ending was very powerful. We both loved our willow trees, and I loved the Ann of Green Gables movies and Pride and Prejudice too. Mr. Darcy had a lot of trees on his property.
ReplyDeleteHow very nice to meet you.
Six years old and four feet tall...love that line! Great visual of dreams and wonder and the blessings of it all.
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