Sonnet to Migration

A sad poem of one's love leaving to the south.

I have seen love fly far away,
A shining bright blue magpie
Whose migrations be a depressing day,
As my chance at love have passed me by.
Those ornate things with spirits high
Traveled south with all the birds.
The sight urged me to come and fly,
Yet out my mouth came no such words.
Now those I love flock southward,
While I’ve stayed north in bitter cold,
Where warm love is quite unheard,
And friendships die as I’ve been told.
And now they’re gone, those pretty things,
With my yearning for those darlings.