Snowing here now. 4 inches so far. Every tree is frosted with snow.
A haze of soft snow still falls,
fragile and weak, with colossal flakes.
But it cannot conceal under shadow of trees
a shy little bluebird that leaps with glee
from brittle limb to brittle limb,
to a birdbath of snow, topped past the brim.
My tiny dog and I, down the sidewalk stroll
past homes, past stones,
past frost-covered gnomes.
The street is silent, the sky is dark
from a window I see another dog bark.