Dying to Bloom

Transitions of time, at 7:05 a.m.

Red breasted robins hobbled on the grass, and bobbed for worms,

on the muddy bare spots on the ground.

Smaller black and white birds leapt from branch to branch.

The invisible dove cooed, as day broke,

And the train rumbled on its tracks.

The viburnum was dying to bloom.

The snow was blue.

I heard the muffled sound of sirens, blaring in the distance,

And saw my first red cardinal, taking cover, under an olive branch.

Spring was here!*

*Crops for the garden may be planned.

Watch for the waning, and waxing of the moon.

By Tiffany Creek

 

 

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