I walked out into the morning
deliberate in my intent to encounter
winter in its bleakness
gray light bare branches
dried up brown leaves clinging to vines
this is not the white winter I came for
but the flat season that came for me
then a familiar soft sound
turned my head in another direction
white bird in the land of enchantment
appears within seconds
his hello accompanied by rustle of wings
we exchange greetings across species
he brings the wild
the uncertain
the mystery
close
he brings all this like the shroud of cold air
someone brings inside
from the facts of winter
