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  • © 2013 Sigman Shapiro All Rights Reserved

Singing in the Day

The tree was chirping
other trees were bare
their naked forms
open to the rising sun
not one leaf in place

But the young spruce
struggling to survive
as the cars whipped by
on either side
was clothed in green

And within the depths
the dense mask
of its branches
a village was waking
chirping unseen

A hundred-voiced cacophony
of squeaks and whistles
eager chatter
a welcoming committee
singing in the day

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One Response

  1. Lovely!

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