Our Big Blue Marble

The finch walks amid us in the snow, knowing we’ll welcome him as the Terra bars its door against him. His coat shines and glows fulgent in the chill and even the wind cannot confuse him or make him sway from his purpose of food

his wings skim flawlessly through the air’s rushes and settle within our barn, the inviting pull of human shelters carries him above the coldness, brings him safely to abodes

the unwelcome flakes of cold broom lightly against his wings but are papered off in his brief winging, no chinook or squall will veer him from the odyssey of our notice

he is not sowed like Autumn leaves with a withering lethargy by the stirring winds

rather, he spurts safely through the graupel and the peppery outlines of winter to find a cover

in our big blue marble