The Cardinal
by Henry Carlile
Not to conform to any other color
is the secret of being colorful.
He shocks us when he flies
like a red verb over the snow.
He sifts through the blue evenings
to his roost.
He is turning purple.
Soon he'll be black.
In the bar's dark I think of him.
There are no cardinals here.
Only a woman in a red dress.
"The Cardinal" from Running Lights by Henry
Carlile. Copyright �© 1981 by Henry Carlile. Reprinted with the permission of
Dragon Gate, Inc.
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The Audubon Society of Missouri's Wild Bird Discussion Forum
ASM Website: http://mobirds.org/
