a junco must be a quiet one
when the dark shell comes, must
close eyes, wings against the cold
then white light breeze--up to sing can sing
andsingcansingand thank the thawed
brink of a puddle for a quick drinkandsing
down to hard snow ground for scattered
seed singand seed singandseed and
back to the hard snow pine to sing thanks sing
as the white light breeze slightens,
less busy--preen a wing--last burst of
sing--until all soft, and still, and warm
then a junco must be silent
when the dark shell comes, then i must
close my eyes; my wings; against the cold
by Tom Gannon
12/91
