Crimson Over Frosted Clover.
A tiny bit of beauty on Winters blank, white canvas
Crimson Over Frosted Clover.
I saw a
cardinal
perched in a
shivering huddle
on a drab limb
of a bare
tree today.
Naked to
the chill wind,
he stood out
like the sore thumb
of mother nature
striving to return
our frozen
world to bliss...
by hitchhiking to
a warmer clime?
Perhaps he
was a prelude
a dab from Gods
brush spilt
as he prepared the palette
of Springs color
not yet arrived.....or maybe
he was
just a
passing fancy
in the early
frost of April.
Fluffing his
scarlet feathers
in a puffy ball
of despair
over seeds
not yet prolific
and juicy worms
still hibernating
deep in the
frozen earth,
Sustenance enough
to fill the
empty knot
of his
hollow gullet.
Then he was
gone in
a red blur
vanishing into
the whiteout
of a blizzard
gone amok.
© 2010 Matthew Frederick Blowers III