Her branches touch what he cannot reach

And, oh, the wisdom she could teach

To men who hold no misogynist soul:

One that belongs to a cave-dwelling troll.

Her leafy exterior falls to expose her in winter

But if he touches her skin, he will yelp from a splinter.

Strong, yet vulnerable, her life is brutal by nature.

She is used for houses, décor, and other forms of pleasure.

The tree huggers are mocked but admire her presence

Like the feminists who praise and march for all women.

What she truly deserves is a warm, friendly “thanks”

For the air, shade, and relief she gives every day.

She protects and shelters us, maybe not by choice.

And if only she could use her voice

To proclaim her ideas and all her knowledge

That humanity chooses to not acknowledge.

But all her life, she stands firmly in place.

That weeping willow, full of grace.

Rachel Yakima is a junior majoring in supply chain management from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Despite her major, she feels an inclination to write creatively in her spare time. In the future, she hopes to work for a company that will match her passion for creativity and forward-thinking and is excited to see what the future holds.