To Love a Willow

For sturdier affections
some cage their hearts--
for limbs that are thicker,
to sand that's not so quick

for fear of a whim,
a pain, a tear
when sadness scars
like thin-skinned grapes
burst with new hurt.

The weepy, wispy willow cries
each time the reckless wind sighs
and the daytime is too hard on the eyes.

A risk, a chance...

Some are willing
to love a willow.
Others... are hollow.