There was a bird when I was young
Flew in from frost the kitchen door
I hardly knew from tinkertoys upon the floor
My soul was oh so young

The room turned pleasant bright and bold
We chased it ’cross the ceiling
Broom in the light the first safe glimpse
Of my own discerning thought

And out it flew seen once and only more
Through years of purest love
I fought for, fed and trampled wide
And honored later wishes

She sits in from the red bushes here
Builds stick nests on the porch
Years of love now return from out the harrowed field
All safe blue flutter all

© 2011 Terry Gloer