Spring

I awoke this morning to that wonderous thrill

of a robin singing there upon my windowsill

Out on the lawn in the grasses dewy green

the Gackles were strutting their shimmering sheen

The Jays sharply scolding, for no apparent reason

other than joy for the changing of season

A cardinal sat preening his feathers so red

there on the roof of my old fishing shed

The chipmunks were scampering with their tails held high

keeping close watch of the hawk in the sky

With spring now here, warmer weather will soon follow

along with Jenny Wren and the slick Barn Swallow

I guess I will mend my fishing gear

I just might be around to use it next year.

The Old Fisherman