Winter Morning
by Paulette Demers Turco

White and silent,
absent wind–
a sense of stillness
seen from behind
an ice-glazed pane
in sheltered warm,
greeting the day
after the storm,

while holly bushes’
berries blush
cardinal red,
camouflaged,
encapsulated,
inside a web
of frosted crystals,
soon to melt,
catch the eye
of one–no–more
thinly lisping
cedar waxwings
flitting in,
grasping the orbs,
crisp and sweet,
sharing in pairs,
beak to beak.



 

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