Poem: Robins

The sky blazes blue
thru the growing gaps
between branch and branch,
twig and twig. Unbloomed
buds are surprisingly
visible, where once
they were secreted
behind leaves; and leaves
once green are golden.
Somewhere, invisible
birds chirp, trill, squabble;
somewhere, one cascades
into a waterfall
of pure tones spiraling
between curlicues
of color our eyes
only imagine
tracing the blazing
blue. Oh, so very blue.

For my very dear friend, Robin Meredith-Kramer. Mostly written the morning of November 4, 2015.


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