4.5.16 The luxurious twisting

On this day, unwinding like a junk yard spiral, there are lustrous Robins corralling worms from the one place scraped of April snows, with grasses yearning up
toward the warming sun.

There are the twin prints of Chipmunk, having visited the far lands of a reinvigorated bird feeding table, with cheeks so full , their small self almost topples over, in their hop hop run back to and dive down far beneath the rotting wood pile.
So that the story of their small day remains

 in the neat path upon the snow.

And far overhead? The luxurious twisting 

and reconfiguring magic that
has known only wind.