Cardinal Over Cornfields

A brilliant flash of red over gold –

That’s all it was before the days grew cold.

The harvesting had yet to start,

When farmers would resume their part

In the tragi-comedy of fall.

The blazing bird was settling in,

Our neighbour and the kith and kin

Of all the other beasts who’d brave

The coming season. Sheepishly, I crave

His presence most of all.

Soon, as the dusk around us creeps,

And the fogs of fall within our bones do seep,

The bird is lost from view. Yet still we’re left

With an image – and an indrawn breath –

And that scarlet over gold we will recall.

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