Triumph of Liquid

 

Strange that the sun shines
When it's way below freezing.
Sun's lights splash kitchen.

 

The little bird house,
Standing with its mouth open
On my front railing.

 

 

Foot prints in the snow
Always posing their question:
Who? Where? When? and Why?

 

While the air freezes
And the tree shadows are still
The clear stream still flows.

Now an icy mass
Nestled in the bushy limbs--
Nest doesn't welcome.

Soft the wind whispers,
But its breath is icy cold;
Even shadows freeze.

 

Young shining pine trees
Glisten in the frozen sun,
Their element's ice.

 

Tunneling through ice,
Dark water patches appear--
Triumph of liquid!