Wednesday, December 21, 2005


Gazing through the swirling snows
at the last few ruffled crows,
roosting with tenacity
as a fierce nor’easter blows—
not one jeering caw is sounded
now that they are likewise grounded.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Words are but words
Still black and still white
A devine intervention
Should bring mentor's delight
For a soul graced with words
Which she never could write.