Bio Note: A love poem for my husband, who is slowly (very, very slowly) recovering from a heart attack, stroke, and aortic dissection that happened in October. We can all use a bit more love in this world right now, I’m thinking.
Instead of Buying You a Valentine,
I Looked Out My Kitchen Window
In February, trees are bare, snowflakes lace the frosted air, and make the ground a clean white sheet of paper, scrawled by tiny feet of juncos, titmice, chickadees, who write their names with practiced ease, and on a branch of snowy pine, two cardinals sit—a valentine.
Originally published in Highlights for Children
©2021 Barbara Crooker
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