Sonnet for the Sparrows
I watch the sparrows scatter seeds
Into deep snow where once were weeds.
I take my bucket, footsteps slow.
To fill their feeder, fill their needs.
They watch me from the elm. I know.
And hear the last seeds as they flow.
They wait until I reach my door;
By then they're peeking in a row.
These pale skies chill us to the core.
Bright spring is what we're longing for.
Then, under the feeder and warm rays.
Sunflower sprouts begin to soar.
Soon taller than I, they'll bow a ways
Toward scattered seeds of winter days.
-Robin Stryker
