Name

.

When she called his name

to the north wind

it roared

through the trees

and made her winter green.

.

When she called his name

to the mountainside

it rose

up the ridge

like a fever.

.

When she called his name

to the racing sky

it echoed

like a dozen geese

searching for a season.

.

When she called his name

to the ocean

it churned

to salt butter

on her toast.

.

When she called his name

to a sliver of moon

it hung like a lamp

on the dark side

of doubt

and this time she knew

that he heard.

.

(c) 1995, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post from 2013)

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