A Trusting Visitor She said the window would scare them away, being able to see people and strange things far from any meadow with flowers, and she thought the glass might trick them into flying for an inside that blocks the sky She thought we should hang the feeder away from the house, instead of using its suction for the couch’s window. She never thought it would happen, the humming bird coming right at her, landing there close enough to see its wings rest and shine beside its green and blue body. She said even with her hands on the window it didn’t fly away, and it was cool and amazing and beautiful. A Poem for Winter This has been a winter with few whispers of spring, I mention to my father when I call to check his need of anything for the coming of the newest snow. The freezing days keep our neighborhood ponds frozen, so I don’t worry about my son discovering a forbidden bravery, a bravery my childhood winters gave when we’d gather at the lake on snow days: one foot, push, the other foot, stand, and if water finds its way atop the ice, two steps back. This winter of memories has given time with my daughter in her bedroom, finding long and thick socks. I gather and stretch them over her toes and ankles while she suggests painting her room might be something we can do after snow angels. Come evening, there is peace beneath the couch blankets just as there is peace beneath the snow covered ground where spring waits patiently, like us, embraced by winter’s gifts.