Pussy Willows – a poem by Thomas R. Smith

Pussy Willows

An early Easter.  Sun low over the river. 
Red Wing Blackbirds shrill their mating call. 
Back-lit last autumn’s grasses bend golden. 
Light catches a stand of pussy willows 
neither of us noticed walking past 
the first time.  Slender branches beaded 
with that dark gray fur we both came to love 
in childhood.  Is He then for each of us 
what we need Him to be?  How generous. 
Softly stroking the gray buds I feel 
my way back through my life to a time 
when we first met and I was not afraid, 
when without a word spoken, He understood 
me, laid a hand softly over my heart. 

Thomas R. Smith is a poetry, essayist, teacher, and editor living in western Wisconsin. His most recent books are Medicine Year (Paris Morning Publications), poetry, and a prose book Poetry on the Side of Nature: Writing the Nature Poem as an Act of Survival (Red Dragonfly Press).