Young Mother Willow

There in the wild,
lay the womb of a child
Shriveled as to protect
where none would suspect

There in the cold
for Mother Nature to have and to hold
the quiet victor
of her malicious afflictor

She lay so still
as though of her own free will
though her wound would suggest
an unnatural end at best

Here in the canopy of the tree
she is finally free

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