By Thomas Page
The Winter asks aloud “Where
Have all the lovely
Birds gone?” They are Spring’s.
A sculpture garden
The most unchanging compared
To trees in seasons
A quartet of birds
Nesting in my mailbox; chirp
And coo in Summer
By Thomas Page
The Winter asks aloud “Where
Have all the lovely
Birds gone?” They are Spring’s.
A sculpture garden
The most unchanging compared
To trees in seasons
A quartet of birds
Nesting in my mailbox; chirp
And coo in Summer