Willow tree poem

Just as a dancer, turning and turning, may fill the dusty light with the soft swirl of her flying skirts, our weeping willow -- now old and broken , creaking in the breeze -- turns slowly, slowly in the winter sun, sweeping the rusty roof of the barn with the pale blue lacework of her shadow.

The Weeping Willow<3

willow tree poem

Be like the willow tree

When I Am Among the Trees ~ Mary Oliver The trees have the wisdom Hannah,from your mummy

The Wind In the Willow Tree