Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

I hear the branches blowing in the breeze See leaves like butterflies And touch sweet memory’s seeds that flutter by Sunshadows in tomorrow’s whispering sky.

There’s a squirrel on the tree outside, spins round the trunk and glides to land where tulips are coming to bud. One bulb dug up, he takes a bite then chases after friends. I wonder if tulip bulbs still flower with bites taken out of the end. There’s a bird in the tree outside. It chases squirrels away than flies in search of early worms. That tulip stem’s a flower. He spits it out. I wonder if stems produce buds when they’re battered about. There’s a cat outside, chases squirrels and birds and the tulip’s trod down in the mud.

In the beginning there was nothing. Empty blackness loomed through glass-packed windowpanes. Formless shapes made shadows in the gray. Then there was rain. Howling wind sent tree-branches tap-tapping on the glass, while thunder rolled and lightning lit the sky. Small errant spider slipped inside, sliding on dripped condensation. Then little boy, round-eyed, afraid, stared scared at his reflection, frightened of storms. He heard the fluttering canary splutter its song; rattle of cat-claws, sharp-honed danger raking against its cage. Then, pad-pad-padding, tiny kitten mewled and lay in his lap. In the end, small mammal comforted small man. Mom closed the blinds.

As woolen clouds touched earth and grew to fog, the sheared sheep shying, as sunlight dropped and puppy-dog wrapped its naked fur in dark, they started out. Stark shepherds crossed the wool-clad field, wool-capped and gowned, where downy grass-heads dripped their milk-white strands, slipped down the hill. Soft lambskin covered small boy’s hands, bleating; he carried his task while town lay sleeping. Lights danced and sang in candy clouds above, star speckles glinting in the fleece. And newborn babe? Wise shepherds came to offer him a lamb. Child’s hands grow cold. It really doesn’t matter anymore; waits for the son.