Acoustics Of A Cardinal

I must find the term, for surely there is one

in some specialized physics of snow,
for the acoustics of a cardinal singing for his supper
or life in the silence, call bright as his feathers in a buried garden

Jot it down now
or forget, as I say I won’t, then do

Snowbound birdsong, a painting of icing and maraschino
so familiar in my mind’s picture window
that it must be out there in the world already,

scientifically-defined serenity

Look it up, not now,
when you get up –

The quiet itself will remind me, I hope

in the morning,
about the cardinal
in quietening snow

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Stay warm and well out there.