Winter Writings: Day 52

A new song
glitters through the branches
on this cold, crystal morning
Rising and falling
in a melancholy chord,
notes echo in the air.
If you listen closely,
you can hear the crystals
tinkle their glass note melody
in response.

I did not see this singer
of winter cold arias...
only a flit of brown or
dull white feathers showed
as it moved its song
from branch to branch
asking each tree
to hurry green bright spring's
speedy return and
winter's speed demise.