We’re in the thrall of those bitter cold days, just after the teasing temptations of the all too brief January Thaw. The birdseed vanishes faster and faster. We see Juncos, Flickers, Cardinals, Jays. And countless sparrows.
Like all the poor, their safety lies in numbers
And hardihood and anonymity
In a world of dripping browns and duns and umbers.
They have inherited the lower sky.
Their Lake of Constants, their blue modality
That they are borne upon and battered by.
(an excerpt from the marvelous poem)
by Anthony Hecht