This morning is a well-placed whisper
Soft, moist
Issued on the ear and eye
It finds its way deeper
It catches on the breath
It draws me out
It brings the distant
Gently closer
Making friends with the far reach
It girds cool and gray
Pleasing and calm
Rising and emboldening
A downy
Whited gray beginning
Not without hope
Intrepid creatures
Leaning towards the south
Blasted by the winter winds
Taking it all
In their measured way
Holding their own
For another
Snow driven moment
Gripping the rail
Girded against the gale
All for one small seed
Or a taste of suet
Such a fine-line scribes
Their economy of survival
I’ve invited them inside
But they decline
Muttering
Something about the loss
That comes with your
Cautious civility.
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