Blackbird

Yesterday was bright with birds,
feathered in yellow and blue.
Today the sky lies heavy as lead
and the garden birds are few.

A blackbird sits, more grey than black,
hunched among thick leaves,
as though he knows his coat is drab
when clouds are colour thieves.

Even his eye has lost the shine
that earlier sun bestowed.
Today he squats on a hidden branch,
his foggy day's abode.

I, too, can wait and watch awhile:
already, he's on the verge
of bracing himself to stretch his neck
and wings; he will emerge.

This bird is still so very young,
his teenage plumage bland,
but soon an orange beak will preen
new feathers, black and grand.

© Celia Warren 2015

Thank you for all the lovely comments yesterday. Can't remember when my blip attracted so many stars! This is the fifth day running that I've done a bird blip, but today's is the first to inspire the modest muse!

The sun's still not broken through today, so I don't think it will now. Soon be snuggling up with Strictly, so who cares?!