Toll

Last week there was an all day snowstorm at the cabin. It buried the seed left out for the birds that over-winter in the north country.

Toll

Winter weather drives

the hefty bell in nearby trees

as I hang a tray of seed

in stinging pre-dawn darkness.

The filmy veil of sunup reveals

a swirl of snow burying the mix.

I tell myself descendants

of dinosaurs know how to dodge

the blows of Borealis.

The frozen buffet bothers me

more than it does the birds.

Or maybe guilt over my neglect

of their dwindling numbers

stabs like extinction.

And in the air, a muffled knell

for a ripple turned tsunami.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor