Stormbound

Whipped by the blizzard I fled
inside and looked out at the
whirling snow. A junco flew
to the windowsill beside me,
tipped his black cap to one side,
bright eyes wary, breast fluffed out,
stayed there behind the wind.

An Arctic wall closed the yard,
shut out terrace and hedge,
drifts stood out in a frieze
carved by the wind’s chisel.

The bird on the windowsill
crouched in his snowy nest,
through glass in darkened air
I saw flakes swirl and settle,
strangely paired we stormbound
travelers shared our shelter.