A Secret Sanctuary (Poetry)

Where do birds go in the storm?
What winter hedge can keep them warm
when winds whip cruel and toss about
the branches? Bitter gales run rout
all night their threats scream through the trees
’til dawn breaks calm — brought to its knees

and desolate with debris strewn
across the rain-churned bog of lawn
with silence layered in the gloom
the garden an untidy tomb
then from the wreck a pigeon comes
to peck about in hope of crumbs.

There is no knowing where he went
for shelter while the sky was rent
and all the world was kept awake
and fearful at each howl and shake
yet here he struts smooth-preened in grey
his secret safe — won’t give away

one tiny clue, much less explain
how birds survive a hurricane
emerging from extremes of weather
unruffled — sleek in every feather
and seeming nonchalent — unfazed
by nature’s wild destructive ways.