Today in Berkhamsted

The stillness of Winter
is seen from my window
the trees are at peace
and a pigeon does coo
the gardens are decked
with a carpet of white
and Jack Frost was active
all of last night
he has frozen the puddles
and ice gleams away,
we are far better off in our beds
on this day
listening to Bach or
Einaudi. and knowing
that outside in fact
again it is snowing
observing a bird in the
branches, apparently
so unconcerned
these wild souls are clearly
adaptable to
the harshest of weathers
they’ve learned the need
to get out
of wherever
and forage for food
as and when they can
so up in the branches
exposed to it all
there is, the little bird man