Dear petite weeping willow --
I have watched your frail, short strands
grow to long reaching branches.
You are more flexible and stronger
than the monstrous mulberry in front
that broke large branches
in the last ferocious storm.
Yet you survived, unbroken.
Your young leaves wave in the wind
long strands delicate and thin
skinny bark, half-wrapped and supported
to keep high winds from snapping you.
I shake my head and wonder
that you did not break and fall.
You are life - a resilient child
who sways with graceful bends
bouncing back, as youthful as
the active sparrow that jumps
around the delicate yellow
and pink petals on the small shrub
by the chain-linked fence.
I look forward to your cool shade
when you are more full-sized
I can see myself on a hot day
hiding inside your breezy house,
in a comfy white chair with a book.