Poets logo
Content warning
This story may contain sensitive material or discuss topics that some readers may find distressing. Reader discretion is advised. The views and opinions expressed in this story are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Vocal.

Willow Dome

on pliability

By Ian LundPublished about 11 hours ago 1 min read

When the ground thawed, we dug twelve holes

And plugged them with willow saplings

Each stick straight and narrow with

Seeking baby branches holding their light-eating mouths

Arms spread like crucifixes, perpendicular as they grow up, up, up.

*

We bent them with twine, fingers surely twisting

Green wire under their tender armpits, pulling

Them together over years. A slender trunk

Slides beneath the flexing bow of another

And a lattice forms, over years, into a leafy dome.

*

Sit with me in the shade we grew

You're as green as they come

Bent and woven too

If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you

Everything's serene in the willow grove.

*

nature poetry

About the Creator

Ian Lund

I write about the little moments that shape our relationships. I'm studying character-driven fiction and writing a speculative fiction book exploring modern technology, addiction, and hope. Brooklyn-based.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2026 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.