Rufous

What serves as a beacon of hope for Rufous,

who, perched stiffly

on a frosty twig, sings

of breezy, sunlit feathers?

A tiny glacier has formed in its nest,

and he, who has grown weary

of wintry nights,

contemplates another frigid evening

covered only by fright.

Staring down from an icy branch,

the white appears stitched

on a wide lawn of frozen crystals.

Rufous, avid dreamer

of luminous days,

blanketed only by frost,

hums aureately

in search of airy golden feathers. 🪶