Colleen sends a poem and a do-it-yourself mutant snowflake.
Ode To Snow…
Pristine white there is no sun
No golden photon to emblazen
Absolute all color pure reflection
It blinds my every rod and cone
Blue cup clutched I step into that light
Crunched beneath the waver of my boot
Leaving broken edges no less bright
Behind me
Rustling snow from every branch
Hardly waiting for my retreat
The brave ones take the chance
Cardinal red splashed
Black grey junco
Cluster at the feeder
Shards of yellow bill
Eagerly pecked between snowflakes
I stand, breath white on white
As
Seed hulls scatter at my feet
I ponder thus:
St. Francis never had a plastic cup
Nor plastic sack of seed
Nor heated room to venture forth from
Still – when I fill the feeder
No less wonder makes my moment
Free from that disgust
That drains the living not connected
By the bridge of life
To Life
L’Chaim


