Saturday, April 14, 2007

White day in spring, song sparrow
alights in a naked maple,
the first hopeful bird
in the yard.

No mystery, this telepathy,
buzzy trills and tremolos
come to mind,
byproducts of a vital message
missed.

The sensible hen is somewhere
south where April snow
knows to fall
as rain.

3 comments:

hwf said...

'Where April snow knows to fall as rain.'

Now that, I can relate to this faux spring.

This morning, C and I went to market. There was a thin bird, orange around the neck, sitting in the rafters, singing it's heart out. What a joyous song it was. Nice poem, it made me think of that bird.

Helm.

Paula said...

Love this poem; last stanza is inspired.

Carol said...

Personally, I am amused by "sensible hen."

Enjoyed very much,
Carol