The catbird sits below a cluster of holly
The ocher meadow is in a glaze of frost
He knows that sleep won’t pull him to safety
Flight won’t free him beyond mistrust
His will is full but his age is deceiving
He grips his talons around the beaten branch
Bearing the hardness of a praying winter
And the bitterness of its fermented fruit.
The wind ruffles and teases his feathers
As he wonders if winter will strike the final blow.
The sparrows avoid him, the crows circle wide.
He knows that sleep won’t pull him into safety
In the glinting night his dreams lace above
Swirling, dancing until the chink of morning.
He asks,” What do I need, what to I become?”
Then he sings like a robin for a lengthening day.
© 2014 Digestible Ink
Bird song from: eNature.com