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.