Poetry Friday: The Winterberry Waits

I’ve been fortunate for the past several years (possibly a decade), to have bluebirds nest in my backyard. I love spotting that flash of blue in late winter as they return to familiar spaces. Several years ago I planted a few winterberry bushes hoping the bluebirds would feel welcome to stay through the winter. The bushes started out as mere twigs, but they survived and eventually matured. For many years there were no berries, then for several years a few berries, then a few more. I’m not sure what happened, but this year the bushes are full of beautiful, plump, bright red berries. But last spring, after an initial brood fledged, the bluebirds seemed to diappear. So now I had berries, but no bluebirds. Until…

last week, when I spotted one perched on the feeder. I thought it strange, since bluebirds usually don’t eat seed, but there wasn’t just one, there were several. I saw them again yesterday, but the strange thing is, they aren’t eating the berries…yet.

The Winterberry Waits

The winterberry waits
to welcome a visitor.
Laden with fruit, it splatters red
in that small space by the fence.
This morning a bluebird,
his russet chest puffed and fluffed,
perches on the feeder.
One by one he snatches
a bit of fruit,
a tiny nut—
treats on this cold, cold day.

Does he not know
the winterberry is so close,
waiting to welcome a visitor?

Tabith has the round up today here. Head on over for more poetry and some puzzle fun, too.

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