I watched the snow
wind-sidle sideways, curling
into the papery textures of lichen,
frosting it all silver.
Legs drawn beneath me,
head cocked to one side,
I laughed as a red-bellied woodpecker
swept into the green swing of the suet,
spinning it around.
“What are you doing?” my mother asked.
“Writing” I replied,
while a thousand lines a blink swirled by the window,
and a bird winked ink black eyes in amusement.
Find the entire poetry collection This Nurturing Awe: Poems Inspired by the 99 Beautiful Names of God at