Winter nights wait in uncounted hours.
Snow drifts unseen, birds huddle behind
browning needles of wind burned pines.
Clouds scatter shadows, spilled ink smudging
sky-dark colors, hiding stars. Lost souls sleep,
drowned beneath fractured ice.
Then a stirring, a winter sparrow shakes free
from preying shadows, defying death. Alone
it streaks upward through the bitter mist.
Small sparrow wings mirror the first light
of morning. And it sings happy, holy hosanna
to the new day just born.
Marilyn Hanchett
Rolla, Missouri – 2023