Winter birds
have all flown South,
their wings spread
majestically across
seaskymountainstars~
Do birds realize how
beautiful the moon is?
They soar in flocks~
friendsfamily
sisterbrother
motherlover~
Do birds have lovers?
Flight of fancy
in search of a
warm sun upon feathers,
juicy berries to fill
miniscule tummies~
Do birds have tummies?
They build their nests
and raise their young
like Army brats~always
the new kid in school,
always moving from
one nest to another~
Do birds ever have
empty nest syndrome?
Perhaps their gypsy spirit
is what keeps them singing
such haunting lullabies~
Can birds feel the blues?
Fly away, little vagabonds.
Leave us in front of our
crackling fireplaces with
our mugs of cocoa and
memories of your spirit~
Birds, do you remember us,
the humans of winter?
Come back soon, my dears~
and bring us some of that
Southern sunshine before
we forget what it means
to feel feathery soft~
Do birds know anything
except the softness
of air and the wild
feeling of winter
freedom?
Little birds,
show us the way out
of the winter of
our cold hearts.
