13 Nissan 5773
The willow is bare,
and the water still
and white as snow,
which crown its rim.
The clouds glide on
as the day grows dim
and the willow weeps.
I'll weep with him.
The field is dead
and the brick walls cold
and the water pale
inviting death,
but deep within
a silent breath
that hails the spring
and heals this breast.
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