Listen to the creeks laughter
as it rolls past the willow trees,
knowing that it’ll never pass this way again.
And the willow trees cry.
Bending down to touch the water
one last time;
they reach only to miss.
All they need is a gust of wind
to stretch them a little further,
to rub the face of the water that mocks them.
And the water rolls on.
And the willow trees only need
to lean the other way
to see the ocean on the other side
that has been waiting for them.
© 2000