Vivaldi Winter

It’s a Vivaldi winter...snow as far as the eye can see, blankets the hardened from sub-zero and sleet. I hear the violins and cello’s, groaning out forlorn winter notes. Robins on a white roof are poufy with feathers thick; bellies swollen in gratitude for my suet cakes. Like many, I cannot leave them cold and hungry. Were it so, that I could invite them in for a hot chocolate and cornbread, I wouldn’t hesitate. Sleet-covered, tree-sticks, lend a suggestion of fairyland; naked trees, frozen in time; a Vivaldi winter scene to trump, “Currier and Ives”. My eyes trace the rabbit tracks, from icy, snow-laden shrubs to my naked fruit trees; rabbit finds no dinner there; perhaps a squirrel left an acorn or apple, buried nearby… Mr. Rabbit will stake his claim. I wish him luck; I know he has little ones beneath my garden shed floor. Lethal ice cycles, grow from my gutters as Vivaldi winter notes, drone on; I sip cinnamon spice tea and whisper a prayer, for God’s other children.