Love letter to Spring

I taste your words

Even with your back just turning:

Your breath is warm enough to sleep in.

I hold the first signs of spring in my beak like a locket:

Out from my hard shell, I come

Bony, beckoned by your song:

Pink wings,

Bright orange beak,

Warm-blooded bare legs

Stamping the snow out from between my toes

Shaking the sands of winter at your doorstep.