Sweet little bird
Where will you go,
When the air turns cold
And the flowers won't grow?




The sweet red nectar
You see hanging here,
Will soon be gone
But do not despair.




You may fill up my friend
For your long journey there,
Where the air is warm
And the fields are not bare.




Come see us again
When you circle the ring,
For when we see you arrive
We will know it is Spring.

Author
Sallee Safford
copyright/2001

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