Poem by Alex Laviolette
The Willow Tree
Is as white
As the wings
Of a guardian angel.
Protecting the baby birds
With those killer baby beaks
In a white, wool cage
A sun as bright as white
Dances in the rays
Shining upon a grey mist
Of crying cubs
And mothers
so loud
the mountains
Would send a breeze in response
Back to the echoes
Of the dancing rays
Trees were the army
Of sharp twigs that
Stab! and Cut!
Those who burnt the yellow grass
Were those who were buried in its
Carcass
Of dead soil
And the sun?
The sun the sun the sun
Was not just made to grow the
Slabs of mountains
That sun
Melts the skin of
Lovers
Mothers
And nature;
itself
At night,
you can only imagine
The Willow Tree
Layered in a purple fire
Shaking, till it becomes
Green
In the morning.