Out of a late November cloud without warning she steps
clad in ermines and crystal slippers
spreading a blanket of white on field and hill
come evening she reaches into her box of jewels
throwing diamonds on virgin snow
bids the moon cast its glow
she is the wind that chills the bones
gloved hands shape the icicles which hang from eaves
and glitter like a thousand stars in the morning sun....
a lady quiet and graceful, pale of face and cold of heart
jewel of a frozen land, stillness of a silent land
this season known as winter..