The Willows


Spring came again last week,
Waking grassy meadows
And crocuses that peeked
At blooming pussy willows.
The pussy willows shimmered,
Soft and rich and gray.
I picked one to remember
The cool, springtime days.
I rubbed it very gently;
The rich fur-feeling lingered—
Like holding robes of royalty
Right within my fingers.
Wealth for tickling my nose—
And little brother’s toes.

[illustration] Illustrated by Jenae S. Westhoff