Seeking Warmth


Arctic wind causes the bones to ache, and drives the sap down deep into the
roots of trees, leaving only gray skeletons swaying in the wind-
a dance of cold, of Winter death.

A bright male cardinal visits my feeder, picking through to find sunflower
seeds. His mate has made a warm nest for them, with sticks and grass and pine
needles, tucked away in thick brush behind my barn.

Far off, down in the swamp, I hear
the honking of geese, congregating for a frigid night underneath the stars.
Soon, the geese will draw their feet underneath them, and tuck their beaks into
their protective wings.

Making quick work of my evening chores, I shudder at the sound of the wind, and
I shiver at the biting cold. I am standing on the promise of a hot fire inside,
and a comfortable chair by the hearth, where I can hold my warm cup.

By Joshua Lanier

rural house with a fence in winter


The natural world is always the centerpiece of my work, whether it be fiction, essays, or poetry. My blog can be found at Wildcat Creek Journal.

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