a poemlet!

Oh, cold cold Robin, where will you go?
It's cold outside- this surely you know?

-This said to our neighborly Robin, as he puffed up snuggly in the draft of warmth coming from our home. I invited him in, though he hunkered in a ball. And when I closed the door he flew along.

The snow sounds so icy, as it falls not so gently. The weather is weird today-
This Morning we ventured right into the day- realizing not that a storm makes it's way,
The birds squawking loudly flying hither and there- akwardly flying in a great-great big square.
The birds are surviving March in New England, are we to live purely returning to heaven?!