The Bird House....
The Bird House.
I saw the birdhouse in the Crape Myrtle tree, today.
Empty, covered in a mossy glaze, swinging gently in the cold wind…
The trees are bare so I can see now what is hidden from me when covered with the lush growth of the summer.
Nothing now to even suggest that life begins here…
With the onset of spring, the leaves will put forth buds.
The birds will return and the cycle of life will begin anew.
The bird house will be hidden from me, once again.
But autumn will come to remind me of what has been and what will be…
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