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Crimson Over Frosted Clover.

Updated on April 15, 2017

Crimson Over Frosted Clover.

I saw a


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.

©-Matthew F. Blowers III


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