After The White Days
© T Pitre
Retired teacher in W. Washington
After the soft, white blanket
lifted from
the ground
in my little town,
green bolder,
birds happier –
busy.
Little, blue-headed birds,
big, sharp-beaked birds
flecked bodies
like banty chickens.
Fat starlings
eating yellow apples.
Pecking the soft insides
and clicking –
squeaking
as they
do their work.
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