Birds on the snow
Have no home
Nothing to eat
They fly blind
For a while
Then come back down
On the snow
Then flap back
Into flight
To perch on a tree branch
The snow does not stop
Falling
The birds curl
Into little balls
Glancing up
Once in a while
At the grey sky above
How small the world
In their eyes
So small
They've nowhere to hide
The snow still
Does not stop
Falling
The birds can hear nothing
As children with slingshots
Draw silently near
