Hang my Heart

               Hang my Heart

My mother used to sing a folksy song,

At least a part of its refrain.  I knew

That it was sad, about how people long

For love that they have lost.  “Adieu,

Adieu, Adieu” was part of it.  But, funny now,

I know I didn’t hear the words quite right.

I thought that what was hung upon that bough,

The weeping willow limb was something bright,

A broken heart all glistening with its pain.

That made a lot of sense to childish me.

I now know that the words of the refrain

Said “harp” not “heart.”  I think that you’ll agree

That that is boring.  When those loved depart,

What all want hanged to death on trees is “heart.”