Little Brown Bird

Yesterday a little brown bird hidden
in a tree sang such a positive song,
I turned in acknowledgement
and agreed, although I could not see it.
I followed the sound into the dark branches
of the tall juniper, spied slight motion
in its feathery branches, whispered,
thank you, little bird, for sharing
this fecund spring, this lush day of blossoms,
bees and fragile green, said thank you
for your effortless, fine song. My heart
was song-less, but in one bright moment,
all was changed, the cheerful voice fulfilling
some deep, unsatisfied longing in me.

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