Inamorato Once, in front of the house, cardinal on a wire before dawn. He, red, the color of danger, anger, or iniquity, thinks of perhaps leaving for lower heights, some widowed female on an old tree branch, both browned by the dull hope of finding new company late in life. Dim whispering in the street keeps him grounded, though, staring until sun drops a hint of daylight. And there sits his old mate, beak pointed at him in quiet recognition, clouds switching on like a change of mind, golden at the edges.
Copyright 2022, Katherine M. Gotthardt
Mike Maggio has permission to share this work electronically.
Bio: While catering to her spoiled rescue dogs, award-winning poetry and prose author Katherine M. Gotthardt works full-time+ as a writer and volunteers, all in a variety of capacities. Learn more about Katherine and her mission at www.KatherineGotthardt.com.
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Well done! I see them there. Recognition reigns. Thank you.
Good one, Katherine! Made me look up cardinal amorous behavior! (And I am happy to accept your scenario as plausible. And I HOPE birds are capable of such romanticism.)