Black wings on brown limbs;
The crow flies to the tree top
Sitting and cawing.

The stream is white now;
Birds flutter from its surface;
Sun does not melt it.

Ivy covered stump;
Tree's dead but ivy's alive.
Two states coexist.

Now all is frozen;
The gray snow slush forms statues.
Even clouds are still.

In poor people's yard
Cardinals flutter in bushes.
Nature knows no class.

Sun strikes the woods;
Shadows leap, fir trees shimmer.
Still the stream's frozen.

From the frozen stream
Tinkling, trickling of water;
Illusion of sound?

White cat in the field
Sits as still as a statue.
Crow jeers from tree top.