Springtime S.O.S.

Last day of February, 32 degrees and snow on the ground.
The air is crisp and clean -
sound travels far.

The birds sing a song in Morse code.
Nuthatches, drumming woodpeckers, chipping titmice and chickadees -
they provide the dots,
While the plaintive "coo's" of the Mourning Doves simulate the dashes.

They heard my S.O.S message: "Tired of winter. Stop."

Their reply:
"Spring is coming. Stop.
Be patient. Stop.
Keep feeding us. Don't stop."