Sunday

Living Things

The weeping willow, despite its name, its curtain of low-sweeping boughs, does not weep over what is lost,does not grieve.

after her death
watching the rain
meeting the river

Beneath the bark, a layer of living cells divides and multiplies, expanding sapwood and heartwood, stretching the bark until it cracks and sheds to fit the new girth.

laughter lines—
the scar around my breast
faded now

Growth: out into the world, down into the dark earth, and up into the light.

Contemporary Haibun Volume 10
Red Moon Press 2009