No 1 Winter

No pics today, just free form poetry flowing from
the warm study in my brain,
to the cold,icy cold,
cold beyond cold snow bound beauty
of the fields outside my window.

Trees stand frigid, scared to move in the wind that cracks everything cold,
chickens gobble round the warm water heater in the shed,
remembering outside green and summer songs
of preening feathers
and eggs dropping silently into warm nests of warm deliciousness.

The pelargoniums in their winter pots
in the cool of the growing room
think of pretty pink and red and white and flowers
and dark hearted crimped leaves
and room to grow and reach for the sun

Our beloved Molly rolls in the snow
remembering snow does not last for ever
and must be rolled in as much as possible
and as often as possible,
telling the snow it is loved.

The Prairie Chickens
fly, defying gravity,
with their big feathers covering small bodies.
They run down the snow banks creating mini trails
for mini cross county skiers,
running to and fro picking
the corn and sunflower seeds the blue jays have left
for the sparrows.

My beloved calls and breaks the spell.
Enough for today.