Blooming in December,
On a thin branch
Where wintering birds
Waiting for bread crumbs to spill through
The holes in shallow pockets.
For a moment
That the sun has warmed the earth again
Under my feet
I think spring has returned in the yellow giddy
And in the trickle of a stream
How strange it seems
That winter has embarked here quietly
Waiting to blanket the garden
And to lull the new blooms to sleep.