Farewell, Painted Birds
In Canada we love the red-breasted robin birds,
that sing a repertoire of songs with no words.
A cheery welcome in each new morns' hush,
delight is watching them tug on fat worms lush.
But, they are migratory and leave when its cold,
gathering in flocks that are beautiful to behold.
Before snow to warmer climates they fly away,
but not quietly- they chirp and call all the way.
Their flock can be twenty, two hundred, or more,
some left today up, up into the blue sky they soar.
The flock follows no set route but south wander,
and I thought where are you going- I wonder.
But, in the springtime they will return to me,
and groups will be roosting in my backyard tree.
__________________
September 23, 2022
Poetry/Couplet/Farewell, Painted Birds
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1489-978-23
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, A Flock of Birds
sponsor, Julia Ward, Judged 10/06/2022
Fifth Place
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