Thrush
I wonder why of late
only certain birds come to the feeding plate.
In spring a blend of every species
appears fluid as hungry and needy.
Winter though,
perhaps because of cold and snow
that attendance is reduced,
to lovers of the oak and mighty spruce;
hovering tween bush and brush
comes the striped brown colored thrush;
windswept by fine flakes of snow
they are cautious where they go.
Seeking shelter beneath the flower pots,
each stakes out a private lot,
where protected and safe
the winter cold they escape.
Copyright © Dm Babbit | Year Posted 2018
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