Grenouilles     mais les ailes
I look around
Gaia is  crying
                her whole form racked
shudders        storms
                are the skies crying
Weeping as the sleet shoals
on the troughs and curves

Limpid pools of eyes
below the pond lurk many minerals and salts
bathing all the denizens in an eerie light
                Is this the End?
shall we turn over
slip into that dreamless sleep?

Finis is not a word in any lexicon that I know
Hues all around
                color the leaves
and the twigs
I say
Make the way clear and
                Gaia will sing again

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