Abandoned now, the bluebirds’ home,
Snow upon its faded roof,
Stands as a forgotten home
Somehow saddened and aloof.
Its sprightly tenants, distant now,
Splash some southern garden scene
Riotously, yet somehow
Harmonizing blue with green!
Here north, the gardener, kicking snow,
Aches for a flash of sky-hued wing;
And later, by the fireplace glow,
He dreams of bluebirds, sun, and spring.
by Ray Romine Monday, December 19, 1949
