The Small Redbreast (English Sonnet) Poem by Gert Strydom

I saw it frolic on top of the gate
on a bright sunny but cold winter day,
a small redbreast alone and desolate,
around it everything was brown and grey.

Only a passenger-jet flew up high,
there, in the dull blue chilly canopy,
left a long lingering trail in the sky
and quite happy that bird seemed to be.

Right there in winter was calling the rain
in a haunting yet cheerful sweet lament
where it sang its song again and again:
of a distant summer that now was spent,

of new seeds buried in the red-brown earth:
calling for rain to fall and bring forth birth,
[Poet's note: Although I do know Thomas Hardy's great poem "The darkling thrush" well that speaks about a similar incident, I experienced this last winter and did not write this poem after that poem.]
© Gert Strydom