Redan medlem?
Logga in
Björn Donobauer
78 år
Dagbok
Dagbok - Juli 2008
Onsdag den 2 Juli 2008
The Weeping Willow
The weeping willow
Soft-jointed, boy-floppish we slumped on the shadow-side bole-shadowed soft grass perfect hideout grubby small hands opening showing treasures to another like: half-dead tadpoles glittering aluminium foil, matchbox filled with dead lobworms
We grew up The willow died she ran out of tears as we lost the need to cry beneath her and the ability to be full of either joy or sorrow
We never knew that the willow didn’t weep for us but lived only from our tears as long as we were small enough inside to be human and could cry for life and death leaning on the trunk touching base with our inner anchor.
Now we are adrift and the willow weeps no more.
|
2008juli (1) |