To Cut the Willow.

I knelt to cut the willow
with pole beans in my mind.
To form a house to twine on
to twist a rope of twine.
But the willow was wild and laden
catkins heavy with life
the bees sang with exhilaration
their pockets full and bright.
I knelt to cut the willow
but found instead a song
of life and light and unbroken desire
to which my memories all belong.

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Thanks for stopping by,

Cammie