Poetry of Kansas

The Whistler

Last night as I lay sighing
And longing in my pain,
For night's long hours to vanish
And dawn to come again.
 
Beneath my shuttered window
I heard the rush of feet,
And upward, thru. the darkness
There shrilled a whistle sweet.
 
Ah, lad out in the starlight
You passed-and little thought
Unto one weary woman
What help and hope you brought!

__Louisa Cooke Don-Carlos

Dear Things And Queer Things
Louisa Cooke Don-Carlos
(Lawrence: The World Company. 1934)
Page 11

 
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August 20, 2004 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org
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