Monday, January 16, 2017

Sing

Under the Wolf Moon
the forest was too bitterly cold
for shivering chickadees.
I found one this morning
beneath the pines
frozen and lifeless in blue shadowed snow.
I’m sure there were more that succumbed.
And yet all around me
the chickadees sang.

They didn’t rebel against a cruel and unfair world
by refusing to sing
until conditions became more favorable.
And they didn’t feel so sorry for themselves
that they withdrew from the flock
and forgot they had music to share.
No.
Chickadees sing in the morning.
So they sang.

~Becky Robbins

Photo: "Wolf Moon", Harrison, Maine by Becky Robbins

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