kdmallory
BLUEBIRDS IN WINTER
Endless flurry of white snowflakes
frosty darkness suspends living things
a ceremonious sun proclaims daybreak
warm delight awakens sapphire wings
Insects, seedlings burried deep below
bluebirds trill a chirping fear
yet the frozen world remains hollow
abiding plans of the celestial sphere
Down a winding lane
almost out of time
two bluebirds swiftly came
their refuge made of cedar and pine.
Three Ways of Looking At A Bluebird
I
Sing on little bluebird
of the wistful whistler.
The weary night traveler
lonely but never alone
head bopping to Vivaldi.
Little bluebird sing on.
II
Love is a dogwood tree.
Sublime, silken blossoms
falling, floating, feathery down
fashion superb dressing gowns
for springtime lovers
and bluebirds.
III
An erudite woman
drank elderberry wine
ate poke greens too
cooked up so devine.
No one knew a bluebird
had possessed her soul.