The Cabin Beneath the Willow Tree: A Poem

Sit with me

till the leaves brown

and wilt above our heads,

without us ever knowing

when the wind plucks them free.

Now,

once more,

slivers of fading light

stream through the window,

your smile pressed

against the sunbeams,

and that’s all I need,

until our breath grows fragile and thin,

and we must leave

this cabin beneath

the old willow tree.