Willow
The wind blew through the branches of the old willow tree on the island in the middle of the lake. The forest surrounded it on either bank covering the cold water with brightly colored leaves. The willow kept her solemn green. A few birds chirped into the wind from the branches in the trees around her, but she was alone.
A small white boat hit her shores daintily and a young girl and boy got out, giggling. They ran up and sat against her trunk laughing. The girl picked some flowers and wove them into a band, which the boy put in her hair. She blushed. He blushed. The willow tree’s branches blew in the wind and touched the girl’s hand. She laughed.
The sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in reds, oranges, and blues. The willow tree was turning black. The girl was lying in the boy’s lap, sleeping prettily and he leaned his head up against the trunk of the tree and looked through the trees branches to the sky. The water rippled from the wind on the river. The willow tree was happy and she sighed.
The sky was blue black and lit by the aquamarine shine of the moon. The boy had fallen asleep, but the girl woke him after she did. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, and led the girl back to the boat. They got in quietly and the boy started rowing down the river past the curtain of willow leaves and down the way they had come that afternoon. The willow tree reached out to them but soon they were too far down the river. The moon lit up her top branches in brilliant blue, but the island underneath was black and empty.
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