Willow, willow
soft swinging low head
sadness brings night tears
to your breast.

Singing of a night wing
circles in the sky
down in the darkness
a life begins to die.

Willow, willow
no answer to give
sunlight brings bright
eyes exploring where you live.

Songs of happy voices
whisper to the breeze
but no one see the tragedy
that lies beneath the leaves.

Willow, willow
watching the world go by
evening breathes a stillness
near the close of the day.

Cries of distant shadows
and shriek of diving claws
hissing into silence
that will soon engulf them all.

17 October 1979

David Harris

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/early-works-willow-willow/