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There are seven of them,
whistling, so pert and happy
while I lie in bed, yawning and sleepy
(maybe even a little grumpy)
at being awakened so early.

Muddled and dopey from sleep,
I shuffle to the bathroom and
bashfully look in the mirror
at my snow white image.
I splash cold water on my face,
as if a Doc “on call.”

More awake now, I make my way
to the east window to let in
the fresh morning breezes.
I close my eyes as I sneeze, only
to find when I open them,

Spring has inhabited the earth.
The disappearance of winter
is like an awakening in me,
I embrace the new day and
find myself whistling a happy tune.

7 birds perching