A Winter Morning

The sun crawls its way

Into the sky. The birds begin their songs.

I listen to their faceless cheeps and chirps in the

Distance.

This morning would be perfect

If I were drinking chocolate milk.

It doesn’t taste the same without you.

The bird’s songs get louder as the morning

Becomes more vibrant.

A cardinal flutters to the dusty stone

That sits a bit higher than the ditch

In my front yard.

Your bright red feathers

Liven up my winter yellowed grass.

This cardinal looks up at me

From its stone perch,

And cocks its head to one side.

I can tell in the eyes

Of this bird, that it is not a stranger.

Good morning, Grandma, it is so nice to see you again.