Just when it seemed Spring
would warm and soothe Winter
the rains came and the swing
of changing weather washed clean the filter
of our misconception
that there was a space for protection.
The world is not safe.
There is no safe space.
It rained all day as rivers built
along property lines
where soil declines to wet silt.
Ice followed falling temperatures.
It coats every surface and aperture.
The birds decry as they fly by
“The world is not safe.
There is no safe space.”
Now the snow falls fine
in gentle winds snow twines
over every branch and roof,
upsetting every wing and hoof.
Birds flit from bare-limbed trees to pines
whose tighter shelter blocks cold’s threat.
Only to be blocked by other birds afret
their space has been invaded
by birds outside their flock.
Back and forth they flit as steady as a clock,
trying to find a safe space.
The world is not a safe place.
The birds never give up trying.
Neither should we.
annarino writes 