horizons behind soft, blanketed
rooftops, crowded with winter's lace -
there is a bird sits
atop it's weighted wire
unmoving cold claws clinging.
graceful jerk of neck towards
distant crinkling branches in
this higher winter world,
heedless to the squeak of beings
below, their tread upon the ground
a topographic maze of white and brown.
No comments:
Post a Comment