Winter Blues

The sparrow sat impatiently upon the wall
As the frost moved in,
Awaiting mist-free morning light
And worms above the frozen ground.
Ruffled feathers underneath the wind,
It hovered in disgust
Above a peanut feast,
Beneath the flakes of snow.
Pecking angrily at berries red,
Its song was harsh and cold,
Anticipating spring.

And in the icy storms which fell,
The bird grew thin,
As it refused to thrive in absence of the sun.
And before the warmth could rise,
Its sorrow ceased, unnoticed.