Herald of Spring
As the last snows melt into the ground,
From high above, echoing wingbeats sound.
A speck of red against the clearing skies,
The robin lives even as winter dies.
A herald of spring, the robin summons life,
Plants that could not live in winter's strife.
Animals leave their cold-weather homes;
The winter's grasp releases, lets them roam.
Its job done, the robin flies away,
And as its handiwork I survey,
I know it will return another day.