Poem originally published in Everyday Poets, March 1st 2012
A small bird is singing
so soft in my garden.
It pleads with the twilight,
for Spring’s swift return.
The branches are shaking
with tears of Summer’s death
while leaves blush and quiver
at Autumn’s attention.
The bird begs with song
for Autumn to wait,
and Spring to bring back
sweet promised sunlight.
“My eggs did not quicken,
under night’s stab of frost,
so cruel was Summer’s slumber,
neglecting his smile.”
A small bird sings softly
for Spring’s swift return.
The answer is sunset,
and the first flake of snow.
