Standing in the place it’s always been

From the days of my youth

the evergreen has stood tall

full of sap and green. Each leaf the same as since it was planted

but the trunks been bruised. and the branches have been snapped.

and I’ve been pricked by its sticks one too many times

but, there it stands, in the place it’s always been.

Then, there’s my willow. 

while my evergreen may have more experience than my willow

that makes no difference

when the sound of bees buzzing and birds chirping consumes the fresh, free air

my willow blooms

sprouting hundreds of beautiful blossoms whose smell enters my body in a rush

my teeth escape my lips in a wide smile

and my worries are carried away with each petal

but the flowers die, 

and the aroma fades,

but there the trunk stays,

waiting for me

watching me

willing to see my smile once more

I long for the blossom

I live for the blossom

but all the while, my evergreen stays standing in the place it’s always been