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.”