Springtime twitters from a power line,
summertime dwells in its damp, dark den.
Both waiting in frozen anticipation for their sign
to return to their usual life of building and growing.
Yet that translucent, thick barrier remains,
blanketing the seeds from the turbulent arctic winds.
Bright males still alight on glittering, naked limbs.
All in a curious hesitation before realizing their dreams
of a dramatically vibrant bloom and running off to build a new home,
we all are holding our collective breath.