“Harbinger” — C.Birde, 3/20
From
the crown of trees
they call,
their voices
fall
like rain,
dark gems agleam,
aglitter;
rough-cut shards
against
up-tilted ear.
Rasp-
throated, darkling
harbingers
joined
in coarse prelude
to spring.
— C.Birde, 3/20
Choir — A Poem
Nightjars & Damselflies 