Windy Storm

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The wind was blowing,
Snow pelts coming down,
I was walking on a pathway,
Not a soul was a round.
When out of the corner of my eye,
I did see..
A little chickadee,
Jumping from branch to branch,
To keep up with me.
Dare I stop to hear,
If a message he cared to share?
Dare I look,
I may scare him and he’ll,
Fly away and disappear?
Into the wind, that blew so steadily,
The snow that dropped like pelts,
Stinging my face and ears..
No! I’ll keep his companionship quietly,
His way a compassing form,
He showed me to safety and shelter,
Out of the windy storm.


– Annalee Hopkins Somerville


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