where is spring?

Bobbing tentatively on frosty feet,

fluffing out their thin feathers,

pecking at crunchy iced worms,

maybe the poor robins should

use their frequent flier miles

for a return trip south !

Enter your comment here...

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

Email (required) (Address never made public)

Name (required)

Website

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:

a poem in my pocket