Scotia, New York
Sunrise... Pale colors, bathed in light, In the glorious morning The birds are twittering, free as the wind. Sending each other triumphant calls, For night-time and darkness and coldness are done And morning has begun. High noon. . . Blazing hot colors, coming down strong. The birds are singing a soothing song. To comfort their young ones, trying to sleep In the blazing hot high noon. Sunset. . . Purple, red, blue, and all, The birds are chirping a farewell call. Saying goodnight to their beloved fledgelings, Calling, ''Goodnight'' to all.