Looking Through The Window

I stare out the window
as a cold, grey day
marches through.

Trees sporting skeleton branches
are vulnerable to the wind.

The cardinal’s brief visit
gives life to the
empty, gnarled tree.
His vibrant red
directs me,
holds me at attention.

—

I look through the window.
Tiny buds and blossoms
announce
that spring has returned.

Bright green leaves
uncurl, reaching for the sun.

The cardinal’s return,
his mate at his side,
they sing their song
to let us know
they plan to call
this home.

—

The cardinals look
through the window.
I see them notice me.

I stand still,
while their nest
sways softly with the breeze.

They’ve scavenged,
they’ve searched,
new life requires
a secure nest.

—

Rain pelts the window,
making it hard
to see the tree.

A big, strong tree
holds tightly
to the ground.

My cardinal family
is tucked safely
in their nest.

The storm marches over,
tearing
at their home.

—

Reflections on the window
echo red and yellow,
leaves aflame.

Those once bright
green leaves now work
to save their tree.

Our family of cardinals
forage together,
preparing
for cold days ahead.

—

I stare out the window,
as snow blankets the ground.

The bare tree looks frozen,
but has feeders all around.

The cardinals come
for food,
they won’t stay long.

While they’re with us,
we’ll enjoy
their sweetly
whistled song.