Wren, a Haibun

“Wren” was written for dVerse.



Image by Naturelady from Pixabay 

It’s nearing darkness at 8 pm, my wren, yet I don’t see you pecking at a peanut on the railing or chirping your plaintive call or, really, see you at all. How have I not realized until this moment that you leave me every May for somewhere else? Do they appreciate you there? Do they give you peanuts and delight at your feistiness? I wait for your return, dear one, to hear your afternoon call as light fades to gray, giving me hope through winter’s sulky days.

Catbird replaces

the wren’s place with mimicking.

Summer solstice moon.

Sascha Darlington




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