In the spring and summer and into the fall, I can hear birds every morning. In the winter, they either fly away or they're too cold to sing, because the morning air is silent of them.
What I notice most in the summer, though, is not the singing, but rather that one rare morning when the birds are silent.
What I notice most in the winter is not the silence of their absence, but rather that one rare morning when one bird sings.
You life doesn't need to be this complicated.
ReplyDeleteMy Hand
ReplyDeleteShows how little hard work
I have done. Its creases
Mimic furrows on my forehead
From too much grief, but how
Would you know unless
I reached out to shake you hand.
[Disposable Poem March 20, 2010]
Dr. Mike
Thesauros: Thanks for the comment. Nothing complicated in listening to a bird sing. It just reminds me I have nothing to be anxious about.
ReplyDeleteDr. Mike: Great poem -- yet again. Thanks.
HKS