The poem below was written by Edith San Pedro Mills, inspired by the three thistle paintings
Amazing Moths in the Moonlight. Calling down the Moon Goddess, let down your white tresses for us to climb gently towards the stars. Finding nectar in the fronds of a thistle. A whistle from the moon, too soon to say how many of our hatchlings will survive, our cocoons marooned, on the underside of the thistle, so sharp and off-putting, with it's crinkly edges, so off-putting to soft bovine mouthes, I wonder why they cleave so hard to one another, like lovers in the moonlight.