As I watched, shivering and cold,
upon my flesh a frost of snow,
I saw a bird, small and black,
dancing in the numbing rain.
He seemed oblivious to the cold,
his wings beat gently warming snow,
with sightless eyes the shade of black,
his dance became one of pain.
His tender body fragile and cold,
fell stiff and frozen to a grave of snow,
beneath the paw, death’s black claw.
Still, in the drumming rain.