Puddles of snow
pool under shrubs –
miniature glaciers
for voles to cast through.

Sparrows, geese, all as one
gather round the warmth
floating up
from the subway grate.

Frozen, withered leaves
dangle under squirrel’s tiny pads
stirring breath
in the still air.

Here, in a far corner of my heart
a soft flutter —
you are not yet gone.
I warm myself near.