Once a year
The Sparrow heads South.
Not for warmth,
Not for peace
And not to just see old friends.
It is a pilgrimage flight,
From Frozen Heart
To Frozen Land.
The blue-winged Sparrow
Picks up the Southern hues
And relishes in the delight
Of a heart that
Once again can be shut away.
Bringing scarlet hues
Back from the yesteryears.
