I guess it was a boy thing.
Eight years old and never
never had she experienced,
never created, willow whips
Choosing one, freshly fallen
to avoid the owner’s ire
the right length for your height
pulling off, carefully, the branches
following the straightest line
leaving a tuff, green leaves
at the end, to snap
A sudden lion tamer.
Rear the tail high, back
crack the whip!
Repeat as we walk on the way home
Remember this yard, where the willow grows
for another day, another harvest
September 1, 2008
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