“The Nightingale’s
The soft-spoken
announcer of
Spring’s presence” (62)—Barnard Translation
If I was out too long
on my walk,
blame the chickadees:
They lured me
with cheerful
announcements.
The sky has opened!
Light is on the ground—
Trees are brimful with
tears.
I was out
reveling
in puddles:
wet hollows of hope.
I felt
Spring’s presence
drip
on my forehead.
Join me next time.
You were at home,
cooking breakfast.
The chickadees’ song
tempts me more than bacon.
~Lindsey Bellosa