Spring Birds' Song

Within the pink world,
the sweet smell and cozy;
he leans to her, yawns, and closes his eyes.
She nudges; don't be so lazy, dear,
hawk's eyes are a magnet to us. 
Ah, he murmurs, have faith in the blossoms,
while their magic lasts; like the lone house,
stands unscathed in the ruins of the twister.
I'll keep an eye open for you;
flowers and magic are whims of wind;
my love is the root of an oak tree. 

This poem first appeared in The Avocet, A Journal of Nature Poetry,
Spring issue, 2025. 
Thank you, Vivian and Charles for taking this poem. 
--Byung A. Fallgren