Bright Song

All animals are smothered in their lairs.

I am too absent-spirited to count;

The loneliness includes me unawares.

—Robert Frost

I see frozen limbs reaching

toward a snow-heavy sky

with no wind and only

a muted ray of light

as if a shade has been

drawn under heaven,

and I stand for just 

a few minutes

and feel utterly alone,

hushed but grounded,

the ice and snow 

packed under my boot,

and I wait, lifting my 

chin up, my ears attuned

enough to hear the first

little chirps of birds

somewhere nestled 

within those icicle

branches, and my heart

warms with the bright

song of hope.

—C.L. Fisher, February 2021

Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.