The snow sparkles tonight
like glitter-dust on a Christmas card;
none but the brightest stars can compete
with such incandescence.
The trees, reach higher – ever higher,
weave a tapestry on clove-pink skyline;
meandering mists blow through me
as I catch my breath...
The air – so crisp so clear,
I grow brittle with its keenness...
as I jingle along past the frosted vine
like a crystal butterfly.