a flash of red

beneath my window a bird flies
the flash of wing betokens day
a symbol not of joy nor play
under the grim and filthy skies
the hope we had all winter dies
roots do not sink deep into clay
there is no hope of healing ray
another sorry day must rise
seek honest answers and they fade
desire for truth is not enough
behind dull clouds lurks no light
it's not much cooler in the shade
the reply that comes will be gruff
and yet we have the flash of sight