Prairie Poetry   
  Spring
   
 

The sidewalks are littered with robins,
walked out of the grass, flew down from green
branches

Each beak pointing north as to a star;
wings neatly folded; soft, robin-y roundnesss
that softly feathers breast, a carpet;
smoky orange spread out across Oskaloosa

A thousand robins' feet stilled, ghostly
cloud of asterisks

 
   
  Elisabeth Lee
   
  Copyright © 2004 Elisabeth Lee
   
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