What the Birds Are Trying to Teach
A Poem for the New Year
On a too-warm winter morning The air smelled like spring, but the birds— Knowing food still comes very dear— Went about their work with great care. Two crows sifted through the leaf pile Constructed by my driveway's edge For acorns the squirrels left behind. A lone house finch went branch to branch In the sweetgum tree, picking over Each spiked ball for tiny winged seeds. If they can still seek the good gifts Offered to them in bleaker times— Gathering life, not mourning lack— Perhaps I can learn this grace, too.
Hi, Justin! I just read this poem in the third issue of The Walnut Branch! I decided to look and see if you were on here. I was published as well! Wonderful poem, man.
I'll say it again - love this poem! And your watercolor here!!