...winter crescent resting in the high pine bough - you fly through the woods like a lone snow bird...

...the winter is kind and leaves red berries on the boughs for hungry sparrows...

...I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists...

...all winter the acorns and red Maple leaf moldered in silence - in the same way grief is gnawing at me - slowly, imperceptibly... consuming...