Snow goddess sings
in mallard wings
through frosted dawn.
Crease of moon, stretch of light
she paints across eastern skies
and a new morning rises.
Reflected in whirled ice she lounges
by creek bank in snowdrifts,
teasing water with old stories
until it gurgles, chortling beneath solid surface.
Snow goddess ecstatic in blizzard
becomes the oak tossing her branches.
In rapture she leaps, tickling twigs,
across the night sky
and so sparks the kindling
of a fire, needed, this cold winter,
built to keep children warm.