The Wind in the Willows

Into the woods her grandfather planted
We sauntered, leisurely, along the stream
By willow roots sunk deep into soft earth
Thirsty for water—she came here often.
Unexpected the storm swept off the step,
Waved through grasses, danced branches, and pelted
Green leaves, the flung shelter to which we turned
From rain. I’m just a village girl, she said.
I suspect living elsewhere is dying.
I only heard your voice calling me home.