It was under Grandma’s willow tree
I could always just become me,
It was many summers past and many seasons ago
I’d always run for comfort there – a safe place I could go,
It was there I would flee from all things scarry
And dream of the princes that I would marry,
Many things were wished for there and very large dreams made
I told the tree of big futures and the best of plans were laid,
Her willow winds always blew promises no matter how bleak the day
As I huddled there under her vastness I’d always find my way,
She sat at the rear of the family homestead right on the edge of of town
It never occurred to me growing up that willow would ever come down.
Yet the homestead was sold to the city plus the land upon which everything sat –
Including Grandma’s willow tree – bulldozed in the drop of a hat!
Though my memories of that willow tree are nothing short of sublime
What I wouldn’t give to sit under her branches just one more time.
© 2012 DiAnne Ebejer