By Cindy Owsley
The need to be alone nearly equaled
the need for a close friend's hug
and so it seems that inertia prevailed.
I packed multiple armloads of hackberry
all split and dried into the cold cabin
and started a fire in the woodstove.
It was seasonably warm for late February
but the frozen ground held the snowmelt
in squishy puddles that soaked my boots.
The binoculars that dangled from my neck
assisted me in naming my feathery friends.
Red-headed Woodpecker. Blue Jay. Cardinal.
A veil of fog obscured the setting sun
and I ate cold leftovers from a clamshell
as the teakettle signaled its warmth.
As I sorted puzzle pieces into piles of colors
great flocks of snow geese barked across the sky
and coyotes yipped their favorite party songs.
Now the wood crackles its sauna warmth
as I pen these words to help me remember
all these things that gave me peace.