Social Isolation: Day 38

One bird sang
from a bare oak today
as I strode along
in mask and hat and gloves
and layers of clothing.
It’s almost May and yet
our region of the country
is stuck in stubborn cold.
 
Air, sky, gravel path
all gray, the oak gray, too.
The song, though, so melodious
I tried to pick out colors
that could identify the bird
 
Somehow it too looked gray,
as if disguised by fog.
But what a song.
Varied, piercing, sweet,
it turned sound into color.
And, from the far side
of the gray floodplain,
came a faint response.
 
 
 
S. Robbins, April 24, 2020

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