A painterly poem
A dozen doves huddle like monks
intent on prayer.
Stitched in the snow, small tracks
A cardinal with his cape of red keeps wisely
out of sight
from five short-tempered blue jays,
spoiling for a fight.
A tart-tongued squirrel in a snit
plans her next bold raid
as the sullen sun loiters, too pale to make
Through my window I watch this tableau
with only words to paint the scene before it yields