Mournful Whistles

Wind through willows,
whistles, mournful,
thistles bend low
‘gainst the cold blow.

The green turtles,
worried, missed her.
She was months late.
Hide… mossy wait.

Dragonfly yearned,
concerned, nestled
‘midst the cattails,
hungry and frail.

Below, the catfish
wished Spring all haste,
wasting, hungry,
insects, be freed.

In this cold wind,
know the Lady,
Green, comes to feed
her children’s needs.

© CGT, 2018.

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