Winter Tales

Snow White has put on her grey sludge dress, turning from princess to drudge overnight, She is a pidgin that takes its ill-fed feathers to brighter patches of sky seeking less frozen crumbs. Roads have curbs of dark pack-ice, we drive our carriages, pink-eyed and just whiskers away from a shivering daydream. Horsepower pulls us through to an evening that mimics the gray face of the day. Let it rain, let it splash this chill air to dry, Spanish hills. Ohio for now, has put its fairy tales away, in sports bars we drink until mugs slide between drowsy lips as easy as slippers of glass.