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
Showing posts with label wheeping willow tree. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wheeping willow tree. Show all posts
Monday, September 01, 2008
Monday, May 05, 2008
Scraps of Memories
Little bits of memories,
most over forty years old
bouncing up against one another
spilling into my present consciousness
a bit of this and a measure of that
places in my backyard, the smell of the kitchen
the way the stairs to the upstairs opened
to block the way to the living room
the roots from the neighbor’s
weeping willow, yellow, whips to snack
the roots under the liner of our above ground pool
blue, pale blue vinyl slide against my foot
the basement, cool and damp
grabbing my bike, head down to the river
up the dirt road to the raspberry bramble
the arborvitae bush, the jack in the pulpit
below the yew bushes out front, bright red berries
maple in the front yard, hydrangea bush
in the corner of the flower, the vegetable garden
the large stand of lilac, the dogwood,
with the hens and chickens below
all part of the world I knew
about eight or ten
falling out of my memories
onto these lines
May 5, 2008
most over forty years old
bouncing up against one another
spilling into my present consciousness
a bit of this and a measure of that
places in my backyard, the smell of the kitchen
the way the stairs to the upstairs opened
to block the way to the living room
the roots from the neighbor’s
weeping willow, yellow, whips to snack
the roots under the liner of our above ground pool
blue, pale blue vinyl slide against my foot
the basement, cool and damp
grabbing my bike, head down to the river
up the dirt road to the raspberry bramble
the arborvitae bush, the jack in the pulpit
below the yew bushes out front, bright red berries
maple in the front yard, hydrangea bush
in the corner of the flower, the vegetable garden
the large stand of lilac, the dogwood,
with the hens and chickens below
all part of the world I knew
about eight or ten
falling out of my memories
onto these lines
May 5, 2008
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Willow Whips
Snap of the willow whip
chosen, just the right mix of
thick branch, slender tip
leave a few leaves at the end
to crack the wind
break the extra shoots
the forks in the branch
a long bullwhip remains
yellow and brown, long
longer than you
feel the drag of it on the ground
rear its arc skyward
flick it forward
Crack!
You are at the center ring
lions and tigers at your command
along the street, around the yard
with your willow whip
August 13, 2006 13:59
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,730+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
chosen, just the right mix of
thick branch, slender tip
leave a few leaves at the end
to crack the wind
break the extra shoots
the forks in the branch
a long bullwhip remains
yellow and brown, long
longer than you
feel the drag of it on the ground
rear its arc skyward
flick it forward
Crack!
You are at the center ring
lions and tigers at your command
along the street, around the yard
with your willow whip
August 13, 2006 13:59
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,730+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
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