Poetry from the Generations 

The Day of the Chickadee
by Nancy Ness

Melodious silence greets my morn
As icy prisms suspended at my pane
Refract the advent of
A freshly fallen fantasy,
Mottled only by the
Whimsical fluttering of
A chickadee on undaunted wing.
My reverie envelops me
In a vast blanket of glistening
Unsullied snow,
An illusory mask for winter’s
Sallow earth beneath.
Still waters stand in frigorific splendor as
Evergreens bough their ice-laden limbs
In reverence
To the glacial touch of
Nature’s enchanted wand.
E’er the day of the vernal crocus,
The chickadee and I shall appertain
This pristine dream as one.  

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