Out in the pine
the blue jays gossip
about how spring will
soon show up
in a bouquet of streetlights.
Night no longer has its map.
The glare of electric eyes
has erased the star patterns
of migration.
Yet, somehow in the blinding
a robin can find its way
out of Texas to sing among
tulips in New York.
Faces blanched by winter glass
turn into rosy cheeked dreamers
as they anticipate sun feathers
of tiny yellow finches decorating
chain link fences in Oklahoma.
In the journal of humans where
nature has been replaced by
concrete the defiant voice of spring
still brings grace to souls who
cherish the peace of wild things.
©Susie Clevenger 2025
Comments
office on rent