Since I wrote about a certain willow
I was the sole audience when a velvet breeze
Through her languid leaves did billow
I sat upon a blanket on the lawn
Mesmerized by her sashaying moves
Imagining dancers of all styles
Through her theatrical grooves
Today I passed her way again
My heart jolted by the effect
Of her contorted body on the ground
Like a museum piece to inspect
Uprooted from her repertoire,
She’s adapted to circumstance
Branching in different directions
With the ability, still, to dance
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