A full-grown weeping willow is one of the most majestic sights known to mankind. There is literally a curtain of greenery which must be pushed aside to get in. And once you're inside, nobody can bother you, nothing can touch you, it's just you and the tree (and maybe someone else, if you brought someone along). Memories of days under the boughs of the weeping willow have made it the most sacred tree to me.

Oh weeping willow
you watched me from afar;
watched this whole town grow
while I played in my backyard.
What would you know about real estate,
apartments, or shrinking farms?

You're just a weeping willow,
you know just what you should;
elegant vines bloom and billow
down your age-streaked wood.
What would you know about fate,
or the politics of townhood?

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