Birds fly overhead
soaring to keep from freezing
to the lonesome ground.

Gray has decended
from the low, comforting folds
of winter's blanket.

The screams of children
signal they are having fun,
but still sound scary.

Winter has returned-
the leaves rattle with the cold
and I want a fire.

A patch of relief-
unseasonable warmth,
brings the lie of spring.

The female cardnal
searches my dead yard for food;
the male suns himself.

Breathing stinging air
into my tired body;
in no mood to write.