Chasing the Fat Birds

Chasing the fat birds

Has become a morning game;

Old St. Francis Sarv.

Fat birds are learning:

Some of them come, eat and leave

Like polite birds do.

With its wings folded

Crow seems to surf through the sky

So effortlessly.

Standing side by side

Silent sentinels waiting

For rays of the sun.

For many seasons

This swing has remained empty.

(Baby has grown up)

Snow topped newspapers

Collecting on the driveway;

(Their news is not hot.)

Lichen covered tree

Bends over the cat tail field--

Motion in stillness.

Small flickering lights

Float softly through the iced air:

Tiny flakes of snow.