Bright morning sun drapes itself
like a silver silk scarf
on the fluttering pendulous shaped leaves
of the drooping white birch tree
in the front yard,
where sits an ever so proud,
but exhausted mother cardinal,
doing her best to feed bits of seed,
carefully chosen from the nearby rocket-shaped feeder,
to the two impatient youngsters at her side.
A slight warming breeze fills the yard,
stirring the Himalayan wind chimes,
hanging and dancing from a limb
of the nearby crab apple.
Their earthy hollow echo sweeps me
across the yard
and deep into the moment,
leaving me dangling
on the delicate vibrating edge of time.
There I hover till the cardinals
break the silence with their wings.
Click here to hear me read this poem.
11 thoughts on “Dangling in the Echo of Spring”
Thank you Pat. From you, that means a lot.
Don an absolutely fantastic poem!!
Floots, thanks so much. Glad you enjoyed it.
great write don
especially that ending
Polona…thank you and glad you enjoyed it. Hope you have a great weekend. It is gorgeous here in Cleveland, Ohio.
Thanks Kai. I appreciate your kind comment. Hoping you are well.
Thanks you Aurora. Hope you are well.
Dan, thanks so much.
Glad you both enjoyed this poem. It wrote itself, you know.
This one gets an A+…
The ‘rocket-shaped feeder’ line even reminds me of the nose of a rocket, the way it protrudes beyond the other lines…
Nice sounds, too, from you and the chimes…
This is beautiful.