Melt line

I am glad for signs of spring, an end to winter.

It sort of snowed

Last night.

This morning

Where the sun is

The snow isn’t.

The melt line says:

It’s more spring

Than winter now.

The robins have arrived.

The juncos will soon

Be on their way north.

I saw a goldfinch

At the thistle seed sock.

In the sun

He has begun

To gleam

Only a hint

But it’s there.

The melt line:

White on one side,

Green on the other,

Says

It’s more spring

Than winter.

I see it.

I swear I do.

Clarity

Amazing birds.  Juncos.  Their markings so striking against the snow.  A sight to behold.  I could watch them for hours.

The juncos appear

So clear against the snow

Divinely marked

Dark gray and white.

We spread the seed

Close to the window.

They arrive en masse

Clear against the snow.

I marvel

At their dark gray,

Their whiteness,

Clear against the snow, 

Astonished

By their clarity.

I consider Advent

 There is no point in unearthing the Advent wreath.  There is no place to put it. We will have to mark Advent in a different way this year.  

I consider Advent

With four juncos

On the back patio.

They sit

On the leftover kitchen tile.

No snow.

I consider Advent:

No place to put a wreath

This year,

The newly arrived kitchen sink

In a box

In the hallway.

No room in the inn

For decorations.

Today we will remove the pumpkins

From the planters

Out front,

Put them next to the creek

For squirrel food.

Today I consider Advent

Mary jostling along

Pregnant

On a donkey,

Wondering what on earth

Comes next.

Please tell me (she whispers)

No more angels

Announcing strange and stranger things.

No more cries in the wilderness

Prepare

Prepare

Prepare.

I consider Advent

No room in the inn

For decorations;

Pumpkins for the squirrels

Out back;

Juncos waiting for snow;

Kitchen sink

In the hallway.

Please tell me

No more angels

For now.