I thought of you all winter

a mocking birdy. Image: Cynthia Via

I noticed you flew down to my grass, to examine,

and wonder about your next move.

The silly feet prancing in jubilation, circling yellow daffodils.

I tried to memorize you before your final spin:

orange blended to a dark gray, faded to a black head,

open, light gray wings and tips of blue past me.