notes for willow poem
I walked through the willows.
I let them drape their sad arms over
me, let their man-o-war tentacles of
despair sweep me down.
I let them drag themselves across me,
I let them drag their long sad arms over me,
I walked under their limbs and they did nought to me – did not destroy me, did not take any thing from me,
They gave me nothing, they took nothing.
They were sad and beautiful,
and still they are sad and beautiful,
and I love them now as much as
before no less no more—
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