spring’s herald

Spring’s feathered herald

pecks furtively at the frozen’d ground

urging worms far nestled below

who refuse to venture out

and greet the bitter rain.

His red-dulled breast

heavy-drenched

with water disguised as ice.

II

She found last night

among the howling winds

that her chickling

had become an egg once more

curled into a downy, frail ball

yet no more warm

now more silent than ever.

III

Two quivering robins

huddle over their branch-bare nest

their warbles lost in the pelting hail

not a peep escapes from their hatchlings.

2012

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unheeded

sometimes the wind is nothing but bitter and icy

its dalliances with leaves

go noticed without care

the cold relishing its damper

as i fret away the chills

my want of simple warmth

do no justice to the beauties of nature

there but unwanted

it dulls unheeded

as i hurry tiredly towards home…