A poem for a January Saturday
The Chickadee-dee tree
may be bereft of leaves,
but it is not barren.
Its branches bustle with
flutter and flit-flitter
and black caps
bob-bobbing to the
rhythm of peck-pecking
as sunflower seed shells
like black crumbs
fall
fall
fall
onto white linen snow
Charis D Crandall 