Lonely February Bird

In the quiet of frost-kissed morns,
Where winter's breath still lingers,
A solitary bird takes flight,
Its wings a fragile whisper.

Feathers dipped in shades of gray,
And wash of sunsets long forgotten,
It perches on a barren branch,
A sentinel in snowbound soliloquy.

Its song, a melancholy tune,
carried by the biting wind,
A requiem for warmer days,
When blossoms danced and leaves applauded.

Does it dream of distant lands far from here,
Where the colors of spring await?
Or does it find solace in the stark and frigid,
in the weakening gauze of cold yellow light.

Lonely February bird,
Your presence speaks of quiet strength,
A reminder that even in desolation,
Hope clings to the edges of the coldest dawn.