My dog and I took a walk in the snow
     today. He frolicked and danced--
          but we both paused when

we saw them: dozens and dozens of robins
     congregating nearby, alighting
          on trees and bushes and rooftops,

sipping water from a puddle,
     flying back and forth from one perch
          to another,

their little orange breasts
     puffed up, but otherwise
          taking no notice of the cold.

They spoke to one another
     only of necessities--an occasional
          chirp here or there.

The robins, too, appreciate
     the quietude of snow, 
          the joy of silent togetherness.