Combing Woods Poem by H. Rand Swansey

combing woods on a winter afternoon

snow lies dense, bending boughs of spruce
and fir and pine

oak and maple, poplar and birch
stand and droop and dip
barren but for tattered coats of
snow white fur

a cardinal on a lark, a flash of crimson,
dips and swoops from tree to tree,
limb to limb

perches momentarily
chips to his suede-feathered mate

then turns on wing
retreats into the deeper woods