Survival

The snow is blowing sideways

The wind is howling fierce.

My sweater’s not enough

My scarf is getting soaked

I hope to find a warm place

To rest my head tonite.

The storm is in a rage

And my life is in its hands

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Winter blues

 In the frigid throes of winter

I hear the whistle from my tea.

I dream of warmth and spring.

The colors are vibrating

after a warm spring rain.

Sun piercing through trees

burning off raindrops

soaking into my veins

and drying my tears.

The Snowy Owl

Winter came with a vengeance.
Threatening the homeless
with subzero drops.
Killing fuel lines,
parking cars on snow drifted streets.
Colder and colder
and more bitter it became.
Slowing the progress,
hushing the busy.
And then in all this arctic freeze
I saw a soul through yellow eyes
A heart, beating in this cold
Sheltered by the pier
Gliding on the wind
and nestling in the drifts.