City Birds

It's winter, and we're drowning in the wet.
I asked that black and shiny Mr. Crow
to go and see if spring was coming yet.
He cocked his head at me and answered "No."

Ms. Pigeon said (I talk to birds, you know)
"You must have me confused with Noah's dove.
I've better things to do than come and go
on human errands." Went off in a huff.

These city birds-- when push has come to shove--
are for themselves. I really cannot blame
them if they haven't learned too much of love.
On city streets, it's hard to hear the Name.

I heard a screech. A jay went hurtling by,
a flash of blue, a glimpse of summer sky.