The First Robin

Rising sun,
Melting sparkling blanket of frost,
Falling snow reseeds,
Cold north wind retreats,
Radiant coral glow of the morning sun as she casts her warmth and light over the earth.

In this peace and rapture of the sounds muffled by the melting snow,
Stands a small robin,
The first robin of spring.

With the remains of snowflakes on her silky chocolate feathers,
And a cherry-colored chest,
And a brilliant beak of burnt orange,
She is truly a sight to behold,
To remember.

Clouds drift away from the sun as if in fleet above her head,
And the sun rising in all of her glory,
She stands out in the white of sparkling snow,
Like a blossom of scarlet,
Like a crimson velvet,
Like a summer sunset,
Like an ice cream cherry,
With playful eyes like the stary, midnight sky,
With soft feathers like sweet hot cocoa,
With radiant chest like the fireplace alight with warm, leaping flames,
She is the first robin of spring.

-KittyLover8
© 2012