In the Last Days of Winter

In the last days of winter

hungry hawks hunt my bird feeders,

the bog  thaws and refreezes

and grackles return to the north.

Red-winged blackbirds call from the swamp

their “konk-a-REE” calls trilling over calm waters.

A late February snow starts to fall

with flakes as fine as stardust.

Soon they grow to the size of feathers

white and drifting to the ground,

forming a lumpy blanket on the still brown grass

before they obscure it completely.

Outside my window the gray sky is fractured by the

limbs and twigs of oak trees, maples, and poplar.

How is it that this fractured gray world filled

with drifting snow and downy flakes

can feel so peaceful and soothing?

I am mesmerized by whiteness

and the muffling of the snow,

but the blackbird’s konk-a-REE

as he flashes his red epaulettes reminds me

that under this white blanket the bulbs are warming,

and fine green points will soon poke out their faces

to greet the light of spring.

Kathie Adams Brown (February 29, 2012)

Robin's Egg Blue

Though it is February first, it feels like the end of winter

My woodpile is getting low and the temperature is rising

Down by the Shawsheen River the robins flood the banks

Red-breasted and bold, digging in the forest duff,

kicking and picking with their beaks,

they are a sure sign of spring in this warm rain,

and now the rain clouds are breaking apart

become tattered fleece in a sky as blue as a robin’s egg,

then even the clouds are gone and all I see is blue,

robin’s egg blue

and I wonder how long it will be

before I find a Robin’s nest with sky blue eggs nestled inside?

~Kathie Adams Brown (February 1, 2012)