By: Courtney Beck
Look at that bluebird
Dancing in the bare tree limbs
Across the street from where you sit
In your car. Engine humming, thoughts whirling
Wondering, desperately, what’s
Next, what’s next, what’s next?
Blue’s red chest matches the light you wait
On, frustrated by the fact that even if it turns
Green, it might not matter all that much. You’ll still be
Stopped, and stuck, in the
Waiting of this peculiar season.
Which brings me to the bluebird’s girl,
Drab as the lower branch she rests on.
In clear view of Mr. Red Chest,
He flutters now on an abandoned roof
Revealing his remarkable glory.
She hops between branches and wonders why
She’d ever want to hurry the spring and its
Lush green leaves. Surely, they’ll comfort in their time,
While blocking the view to that neon blue coat that’s
Keeping us all warm on this cold January Day.