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Mother Willow
Old Limbs
Reaching up to the sky
Scratch at the stars with gnarled black nails
Twisted fingers tearing at the heavens
Her stooped and distorted back
bends low
Her belly facing to the ground
like a child,scorned and beaten.
Ragged and Rough
There is no kindness
No passion
Among those warped tendrils
All green of youth is gone
left in the whirling ages of time
Only a convoluted skeleton,
Remains in the night.
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"Soon we must all choose between what is right and what is easy." - Dumbledore (Goblet of Fire)