The sun is climbing, birds sing
alone, unsettled
Despite the frost, rich clusters
of cherry blossoms droop
on slim brown branches
skirting the woods
In their glade, purple and white
violets still bloom. An owl calls,
voice muffled and velvety, from
deep in the trees
bittersweet spring
Leaves unfurl on a towering ash,
downed during a winter storm,
reclining now, a fallen monarch,
deep in a bed of uncut grass
breaking like waves
And a cardinal swoops so near
to me that I can hear her wings
beating against the unmoving air
against my heart
© 2020 by Hannah Six
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