Stirring the Embers

I was not sure I had the inner fire to brave the cold.
The birds had plenty of seed. I stood at the backdoor.
I could hear the north wind whistle.
I could see the birds.

I came to my desk and went visiting.
Perhaps you would light my inner fire.

Sue Turner at Tumblewords lit my kindling.
Her poem and watercolor stirred my embers.
I had the energy to bundle up and wrap myself in blankets.
I went outside to my ocean blue skies.

I tucked up on the south side of the deck,
protected from the north winds.
Eleven degrees Fahrenheit, minus twelve Celsius,
the sun added ten degrees and the birds helped me
to forget about the cold.

I seldom see Crows in my backyard.