RiverWoods Poems: Winter’s on the Wane

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I thought I heard a cardinal speak

But how could that possibly be?

The temps are in the twenties

And the parking lot is icy.

Every shrub is rimed with silver

Snow has coated every tree.

How does any bird find shelter

Where uncover any seed?

Still I know it’s not much longer

Till he’ll claim his nesting site

And be callng out to warn the

Other cardinals of his rights

Then entice a tawny female

To co-sponsor their new tribe.

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