Ice Bird


The snow is falling.

Flurries 

     of the white stuff

flakes

    falling downwards

blanketing

all that lies beneath.


It’s cold.


The snow bird is frozen.

Her wings won’t flap

                             or fly.

The clouds are ice

no longer moist

               rain givers

but dry

ice.


It’s so cold.


It’s become her throne 

and she sits strangely.

She’s an ice bird now 

wings like frozen arms

                     pouring snow

                           slowly

                           quickly

quick

      quick

         snow 

           dancing

                down below

until the ice falls

finally.



https://issuu.com/georgiasouthwestern/docs/blue_fire_spring_2026?fr=sYTg5MjgzOTEzNzI

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