Earlier we had a visit from Winter Robins, had a small flock at the neighbor's juniper bush. They've been here all winter, but this was the first time the ground's been iced over as this in months.
This poem, kinda Frosty (the Rob't Frost pun intended).
Winter Flocks
They perch on rose twigs I wouldn’t touch,
They don’t come to my feeder much,
Winter Robins, I count, their number varies,
Watching them eat ripe juniper berries
When Spring may come, I wouldn’t know,
They’ve stayed here all the Winter though,
Back in the woods through melt and storm,
Should they have flown?
They seem unharmed
About their business, they get right to it,
Up on a sally they nip the fruit,
The sight of them never grows old,
Chilled steaming breaths bespeak the cold
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