Singing

On the gentle wind you came

finding me gazing the skies

searching for your presence,

for your sweet return.

I felt the chill of change

carrying me through years of memories,

the days growing shorter

air feeling painful to hands that write

and I knew I needed you,

needed to hear your sweet song once more,

to see the eyes that go on forever

smiling  in joy.

The feeder sits empty,

trees no longer give shade as they stand

naked sentries to the corners,

they too wait for your landing,

for your soft weightless form

to give the meaning to a view

desolate and sad.

The weather here changes it seems daily, and I have a fondness for the chickadees. I love their little faces and their merry chirps….perhaps time soon for seed. Holding off to make sure the racoons are tucked away for the winter nap and as the ice and snow begins, it will be time to hear the song in this place we call home.

16 thoughts on “Singing

  1. I don’t see chickadees here as often as I did in WNY, but I did have one dee-dee-dee to me as it sat on the fence, watching me pile the compost area high with leaves.

    Liked by 1 person

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