Only the moon
could love a tree
that has no leaves.

She lost them all
last autumn’s day
and when they fell
the fickle world
turned it’s face away–
not him, he stayed.

The birds despised
her–they could not nest.
The flowers turned their
sunny heads and all
the weeping willows wept,

But he stood still
and bathed her
in his yellow light
and kept her warm
despite the night.