Think back a little to the winter just passed. I wrote this during February 2016’s Poetry Marathon.
A Small Story in Winter
The branch hardly more than a twig
skinny as the sparrow feet
that have just now grasped it
exchanges its crest of sticky snow
for feet-purchase for the bird
Dumps the snow
on the inches of white on the ground below
in a perfect replica of the staggery line
of the branch hardly more than a twig.
unaware of the transaction
holds tight to the branch almost too small
for even a bird as tiny
as the sparrow
evaluates the matter
from its own point of view and
for some reason dissatisfied
Snow begins to fall
on the branch
hardly more than a twig.