Dark Dancing Mirrors

 

A gray dreary day;
Long icicles are melting;
The eaves are dripping.

 

A gray blur of birds,
In and out of the feeder
Fluttering their food.

Air is filled with wet;
Water glistens in the road;
Snow banks look sullen.

Dry plants in the snow
Make it look even whiter
In the gray morning.

 

No sign of the stream,
Not even faint tinkling;
Just mounds of white snow.

 

The dirty snow ball
Sits on top of the snow bank
Painted by car fumes.

 

 

 Is this still winter
Or the beginning of Spring?
Where the hell am I?

 

Dark dancing mirrors
Play below the road surface,
Shimmer in the breeze.