On Limbs Of Trees

By Joe Cundiff

It is on a night

And nights like these

When the snow

Falls free

And lays heavily and

Gracefully in sounds of beauty

On limbs of trees

And it seems

Neither an end

Nor again will Spring

Yet the winds no longer

Howl

But a bitter chill

Persists

And amidst it all

The birds I ponder

And wonder how

Warm might they be

And ponder still

Nestled on limbs

Of trees

How something small

And so seemingly frail

Could be hearty more

Than we