Snow on the birdhouse
But there are no birds within;
Just a round small door.
Bars on my front porch?
No, just the railing against snow--
An open prison.
A pastoral scene:
Olivia, snow and barn
With one bird chirping.
Icicle shadows
Hanging from the farm house roof,
Transparently dark.
Wheeling in the sky
Two black birds lead and follow.
It looks like a game.
St. Francis in snow
Pays no mind to the season;
Just stands there watching.
Windows through windows;
Seeing in is seeing out--
Visual rebus.
He didn't get caught,
That driver drinking his beer;
Bottle testifies.
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