It Was the Bird That Drew My Eye
It was the bird that drew my eye
to the vine-framed window
that was, all on its own,
a thing of simplest beauty.
Its bare, crisscrossed twigs
seemed placed by an artist’s hand,
delicately, but with great purpose.
A closer look revealed crimson berries
and just two determined leaves,
twirling, dancing in the wind.
To that sweet bird I am indebted.
Beauty seen, if only we look.
Ann Weil is a former teacher and professor from Ann Arbor, Michigan. Her work can be read or is forthcoming in Poetry Quarterly, Nine Muses Poetry, The Ekphrastic Review, Headline Poetry and Press, Young Ravens Literary Review, American Writer’s Review, The Voices Project, and Clementine Unbound. Her website is www.annweilpoetry.com.