........Spring, Winter...For The Birds...Sonnet For Fun Poem by elysabeth faslund

A blackbird preens sheen-blue feathers
while cocking gold eyes on it's thunder-dark
flock. Never beaked, stranded, it trusts tethers,
whether, or not, tethers weather the bark

Of crested, not breasted, bluejays. Mean birds.
Gorgeous flappers. Routed by red robins,
when red beaks Springtime song, in lieu of words.
Robins swarm. Advanced schedules of 'bobbins'.

Too advanced. Worms delight in frigid nights.
No rain to flush them birdward. Black, blue, red,
flock away. A sky of Winter delights
resolves to a message, 'Spring is not dead.'

From blackbirds, to Spring, then Winter again.
This is quite normal...notarized 'Amen! '