Though the spring has been cold
And a hard freeze heart-breaking,
Still spring comes.
Close your eyes tight and listen
The two-note call of the chickadee
Alway a minor fourth in sharp relief
Against the dull grey of cloud
Calls to the heart
Buried deep in a winter-weary chest
Spring-time! Spring-time! it calls,
Looking for love but I
Whistle back to it once or twice
Wrong species, I know
Far too clunky and earthbound for the tiny flitting one
Spring-time! it calls,
And I whistle back just so it knows
That someone hears,
And that no matter the cold
The hard ground and frozen buds
And I know …
The chickadee is calling
Spring-time! Spring-time!
And though cranky commuters
Grumbled angrily, scraping ice and snow
From yesterday’s windshields
And jammed earbuds in
With news radio playing,
Hoping for someone to blame for
Cold fingers and winter’s return
But I know ...
The chickadee is calling
Spring-time! Spring-time!
And it will come.
Bookmarks