31 Winter Poems: Poem 7 (and 8)

I am a silvery strand of web

spinning in the sunlight high up in the tree.

I am the bright red wing of the bird perched before flight.

I am the tall strong branches of the oak

bending slightly in the breeze.

And the acorn that has fallen to the ground below.

I am the orange impatiens bowing toward

the earth in prayer.

I am all of these things and more.