‘To a Red-Winged Black Bird on the Advent of Spring’, by Reid McGrathFor some a robin he
‘To a Red-Winged Black Bird on the Advent of Spring’, by Reid McGrathFor some a robin heralds in the Spring.Others: a crocus or a daffodil.My old man claims it’s when nightchirpers sing.The farmer cites the rain, the barnyard rill.I sense it when the maple-lines come down;when pruning-ladders rise upon Fern Hill.I sense it when the buds begin to crown;but in completion it is not untilI see you perched upon a cattail-reed;the reed, against your ebony, horse-brown.The handsomest of birds, you seem to bleedfrom daring deeds of triumph and renown.Alone, among these humble reeds, you’re mellow,with epaulettes of red and goldish-yellow. -- source link
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