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Andrea Shumovsky

Sap drips gently from the tap in the tree
Attracting the squirrels who made it through the
Harshness of the season past

Continuous dripping of the melting snow
Plummets to  the ground making
A delightful bath for the return of my feathered friends

I look for one in particular
Who brings great joy to the scenery
Who returns every year
To say hello to an old friend

The stubborn hoot of a snowy owl trying
To make a claim on winter
Is only a reminder that the frozen state of the world is thawing

I search the tree tops for the one
With feathers of blood red
Who knows his allure stands
For everyone

I notice the brown spiced birds that seem
To congregate at the feeder like children going
To Sunday School, their prayers are cheerful and loud

Then it happens
A streak in my vision has set the blue sky ablaze
A flaming fury of beauty teases the wind
And dances off the clouds

I watch as the other birds seem to know
I have waited in silence all the cold months
To great my winged partner

Gently he lands on the offering
Displaying the glorious colours of life
He brings a joy to my heart as I leap to my feet
He tilts his head and seems to smile at me

Hello my old friend I whisper to the spring air
And now, for me, the spring may come

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