She Weeps

she tries to bend down low enough
to smell the summer flowers
beautifully tempting her
with their fragrance, just out of reach

the children hang on her
weighing her down
but with love, she supports them
growing tired at times

she does not feel as though
so many years could have passed
but she has grown and changed
so much- on the outside

her long hair is billowed
by the gusts of the wind
a lovely mess to frame her face
-always upheaval

she wishes she could run away
to find something- some place
that is just for her
be she's too firmly planted to make her move

at night, when the children are sleeping
and the darkness howls through her emptiness
she wishes she could rest
snuggled up to love

but sadly, she stands alone instead
it is no wonder
that the poor willow
is weeping