
Where do the robins go in winter? They came by here in flocks. They drank from my bird bath the day we set back our clocks
Where do the robins go in winter? They came by here in flocks. They drank from my bird bath the day we set back our clocks
a squirrel licks
water turned into ice
one winter day
© Freeda Baker Nichols
As rain begins to turn to ice,
When sun sets,
Protect pets–
Subfreezing temps are never nice.
Mittens, cap
Fur-lined wrap.
The little birds arise in flight,
Feathers fluffed
Hanging tough.
They roost in trees in winter’s night.
© Freeda Baker Nichols
The gray winter
black ice on the highway
sign of caution
© Freeda Baker Nichols
May your New Year be happy and blessed!
Cedar Waxwing in the Ozarks in winter.
Where do the robins go
in winter?
They came by here
in flocks.
They drank from my
bird bath
the day we turned back
our clocks
© Freeda Baker Nichols
welcome visitor
to backyard feeding pan
the cardinals
© Freeda Baker Nichols
Old Winter Man
The snow lay cold
on frozen leaves of brown–
a tale Old Winter Man foretold
across the woods and up the hills and down.
Along the pike
the frosted snowflakes fell
like feathers–no two shapes alike.
Old Winter Man conveyed the saga well.
The story’s old but new
from winter’s point of view.
© 2016 Freeda Baker Nichols
three blue jays
fight at the feeder
before snow falls
© 2016 Freeda Baker Nichols
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