Poem: Finch In Drizzle

 

Finch In Drizzle

 

in the damp

of musty-moisty spruce,

smaller than the palm

of a lost child,

 

a lonesome chirp

slips from a podium of 

veiny branches flexing in mist.

 

so lovely, this chirp,

a high call and yet so sad,

needing a romeo for its juliet.

 

the only sound in a forest so dreary. 

yes, the only sound, 

tender to resonate.

the merest balm.

===========================

7/26 eds