i wander these woods looking for a tree
to mock nature in revenge for the many
times it’s merely cried with me
when i needed to be cheered up.
on that late night walk home
(already melancholy from a rough
and lonely day) nature gave me silencing
snow
enveloping the world in beauty but
giving me ear muffs and sending the world
inside as if to say, “you’re lonely?
i can dig that knife deeper for you.”
but now my life overwhelmed with joy,
i need me a weeping willow to sit beneath
and laugh hysterically at it, rather than it
at me.
alas nature knows my intentions and gives
me nothing but sunshine, tulips, and fields
of green grass where i swear there were
woods last year.
the sieve and the sand 
You must have written this in the morning.
thought it in the morning, unfortunately it was mid-run, didn’t get a chance to write it until much later.
I was in the process – quite literally halfway finished – of writing a poem today about a weeping willow. And now I can’t. I have since downgraded its significance and changed it to a willow oak after finding that your perspectives on it far outmatched mine.