The northern parula pokes her blue head
out into the March morning steam
pining for the green and the bees

The frost still clings to the twigs
weighed down by the lugubrious winter storm
heaving itself on the heavy white roofs

Smiles on school children, exploding suns
melting the branches, stretching the leaves
as she sings out to the absent-minded spring

a hearty song reviving the hairless trees