Willow 7/12/94
I cry softly thinking of your memory,
A wonderful friend you are.
You are underneath my willow tree,
I watch you from my car.
I guess things were never meant
to be,
Like they were that way.
It will always be a mystery,
How it happened that day.
The willow will always hide your
deeds,
While it stands alone.
I hear it whisper as it reads,
Your name carved in stone.