Snow, rain, snow again, rain.
Chill silver air gusts, threatens.
Clouds obscure mountains,
mist shrouds the river.
It is morning in April, grey and dreary.
Rushing pattering raindrops on the windows.
Warmed by coffee, I cocoon inside,
The storm takes a breath, a lull in the wind.
Listen, listen! says the silence.
The birds, unbothered, have retreated
inside the tall cedar hedge surrounding my house,
my own castle wall,
their secret world.
Song sparrows sing brightly along with
chacks and chatters of Steller's Jays.
Starlings gossip, not murmurating.
Black-capped chickadees call their cheerful greeting.
Crows keep watch from the chestnut tree,
apart but still a part of
the joyous city of birds
sheltered in their verdant tenement.