–

A willow stands upon this land,

an antiquated tree.

How old you ask – I cannot say,

but older than are we.

–

I met this tree when I was young

a boy of maybe three.

And even then it was beyond

a score or more than me.

–

Now, many of years have come to pass

and all have gone but me;

the willow stands to mark the past,

this wonderful, venerable tree!

–

I’ve come to pay my last respect,

I’ve come to say good-bye;

when gone, suspect some further neglect,

What’s this?

–

So strange, it seems I do detect

this willow tree, it cries!

.

.

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©Marvin Loyd Welborn  2011