The Robin

by Harrison Turner

Red of chest and dark of wings,

The robin softly chirps and sings.

The gentle songbird swiftly flies,

To rugged branches where it lies.

The barren woodland stands so tall,

As the snow begins to fall.

A simple dusting coats the trees,

The ground below begins to freeze.

While other birds may travel south,

The robins will remain in scouth.

Cardinals, blue jays, sparrows stay,

To soldier through this winter day.

Snow will fall as water flows,

Pushing through the creek below.

As winter turns the forest white,

The robin will remain in flight.

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