Finally this morning
my dogs decided
they wanted to go out.
It was a short bout
with the elements,
and then they came in, hoping
that my wife would give them
some scrap.
The shadows are sharp today
as the the wind is cold.
The wind chimes ring like
a siren, inviting me outside.
The bird incessantly bites
his mirror, letting us
know the meaning of the
phrase "bird brain."
The oak tree leaves open up
in the sun and face its
warmth like good soldiers.
The oak tree itself is not
worried about growing during
the winter. It is deep in
thought about one year past
and another year to come.
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