The Package of Land

Blue foam climbs a steel plated turtle.
The churning thrush of gentle cool water reminds
The clouds to glow in the sunlight.
And everywhere the sound of hens breathes into the air.
Warm nights no longer bring comfort because the wind
Stays active more often.
And the stream, once a rill, now is a swale, and its steep canyon walls
Sleep while children run across fallen leaves.
Until then, visit the past.
Come hither, son of lost love, make the Spring come faster.