You could say (and you would be correct) the mottled, colorless sky leaves one bereft of brightness this time of year. You could say (see above) the empty, lifeless branches are dull, dormant gray/brown slender swords against said mottled sky. You could say (well, you know)  there’s little beauty  in such poor adornment, small pleasure in the drab and drear view. On the other hand, … Continue reading What the Birds Say-A Winter Poem