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  • Brionna Bennett


Lead me to the weeping willow in the backyard

The one watered by tears, like a graveyard.

Where droplets change from translucent, to red

Summoning the spirits, of those once dead.

Guarding the land that once was theirs,

Now, protecting the progeny, that once was scared.

Repressed memories that nourish its roots,

taking hold of the soil, causing visions to transmute.

Once drooping, lifeless, filled with despair

Now seeing its true must beware.

Budding catkins filled with both fear, and mild delight

Where the iron fence can’t keep you out of sight.

Where the sun never hits but leaves still fall

Where bats, and trinkets, escape the branches so tall.

As I lay back and see the night sky

Spinning and twirling in my mind’s eye

I wonder what stories this tree could tell

Its wisdom has captured me, and I am indwelled.


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I have been the one left out Moved out of the way, taken advantage of I have been the one that no one Had ever noticed Invisible to the world, but seen Through hazy eyes The real me has never been see



Hi, thanks for stopping by!

Brionna Bennett is an African American writer born and raised in rural Virginia with a love for magic, fairies, and nature. She is the organizer of DC Creative Writing Read & Critique and a DC Writer’s Salon member. When Brionna is not writing, she is a Middle school special educator helping students with similar disabilities she struggled with growing up. She loves all things Disney, superheroes, and music. 

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