Under My Blankets

Blanket to my chin

Arms tucked underneath

I resist motion

Thinking of the fresh snow

Birds Awakened 

This morning’s still dark
Abrupt noise into silence
Birds have awakened

This morning’s first birdsong came while I was dosing. Jarring enough to yank my attention. Does the first bird to speak get the early worm? Ot, perhaps, he gets the girl?