The Bird of Winter

The Bird of Winter

A young robin in the city

looking for a place to set a house

He collected twigs and sticks and stones

And found the warmest branch that could exist

And out came a brand new house

But the winds of winter weren’t far behind

for the autumn was followed by the snow

and in the night came the rains

Not all creatures can live through a storm

But the strongest are not those with might and power

It stayed in a ditch till the snow had melted

And watched the branch of its very home devastated

No living soul would have the strength again

But this was no ordinary bird

It flew from meadows to rivers and mountains to the sea

It had a dream of what it’s nest could be

With sticks and stones and pebbles and leaves

It built a nest again

The most marvelous one could be

But a nest was not something he wanted anymore

For now the robins wings had a taste of flight

Winds and rain, sun and snow

His tiny wings now seeked the horizon

For now, he was a Bird of Winter

Probably the most random thing I have written in under two minutes, with thought added to it.