Better Times

The blackbirds are hunting
Frantic on hard ground
There must be something
They hope there must be

Break the bird bath ice
They still need a drink
It isn’t getting any warmer
They know it isn’t

Fill the bird feeders
As fast as they empty them
And hope for better times
We can hope together

There are regular updates to Unstated and all its offshoots. Click here to sign-up to the monthly newsletter and make sure you don’t miss out.