The Cardinal

The cardinal in a snow-clad tree prances through the branches. With glossy eyes, all masked in black, he darts and dashes from side to side casting furtive glances. Perching himself on the slightest limb, he bobs up and down with the lightest wind, yet still he dances, with crest and chest ablaze in red, orange beak pointed straight ahead, and wings still wrapped in winter feathers, waiting to brighten with warmer weather . He shakes his head back and forth, looks south and east, testing his course, then with an ounce of force he lifts his wings to fly away, the lone splash of color in a sky so grey Leave a comment Share Thanks for reading Paul’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. Pledge your support © 2024 Paul Wittenberger 205 S. Park Avenue, Fond du lac, WI 54935