Tell me willow tree,
do you remember me?
The boy who sat under your shade,
a fishing rod in hand.
Casting my worm and float.
Enticing a perch from farmer Gibb’s pond.
Those sweet sun filled afternoons.
Not a care nor a worry,
as I watched your branches sway.
I see them now touch the water’s edge,
sending ripples on the glass surface.
A caress for your giver of life.
Your soft branches look so gentle.
Inviting me to sit by your side.
Willow tree! You do remember me!
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