I saw him once again this very morning 

That little red bird who's always calling

Perched on a branch across the road

Looking so proud - at least - it showed



That little red tuft of feathers on head

Making sweet chirping sounds - read

As beautiful harmonies with the trees

As slightly cool winds stirred the breeze



And thoughts back to years come and gone

When this cardinal (or another) sang songs

Prompting me to wax poetic about the beauty

Of nature in all its wonder and its hidden duty



To preserve all of the harmony which can exist

As we learn to love and live with none missed

For all it takes is the ability to read people well

In order to co-exist amicably - sharing our shell



- Tristram



(c) Christopher W. Thomas

10:10am Wed. April 15th, 1998