lovers laugh under willow tree
shades of summer swimming in the air and we are
a cool island surrounded by land-reaching stretches of branch
feathered in the green and white of leaves and textured
to the touch of grass and the breeze
stirs the trees to their smooth rush whispers,
to endless treatises on the passage of time
and whose roots run deepest

and your hand sliding along my arm
sending infinite signals to my mind
raised my heart to your meanings.

we are breathing in a language
that lays thick in the scent of the earth rising at summertime,
expounding itself in the way the grass grows to the sky,
and how the birds seem to fly not because they can
but for the sake of the flight itself.

and in the midst of all such things
between you and I there swings a moment to define us
when the wind stirs my hair
I can feel a patch of sun through the trees
falling light on the back of my neck
and in amongst your willow tree shadows I become more
closer to the root than ever before.