Winter is not meticulous
It kisses every inch of bare skin its
Snow fox flurries come across
The pink petals of noses, the red riddles of ears
Opening up to the sound of the
Wind’s unraveling silk.
Winter is a map of silver
Each snowflake its own
Demographic doorway to perfection
A shock of crystal detail
Sprinkled in my sister’s infinite hair.
Winter is a gift to the blind
For even they can feel the
The morning light
Bouncing off every blade of frost and Read more »