The Morning Survey:
The Morning Survey:
At field’s edge, a blaze
of cherry color peeks through
the copse, flitting wings
bustle past the tall grasses
The Ruby-crowned Kinglet flares
©️Winter Dawn Burns
2 thoughts on "The Morning Survey:"
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the poem sings, especially the internal rhyme in “bustle past the tall grasses”
Thank you so much for your comment and for reading my poem!