White frost sings a siren’s call,

And I, still sleepy from my somnolent waltz through this

Winding, winsome, worrying world

Am suddenly and sharply awake!

Heart racing, I crawl forward, watchful and wondering.

What strange angel dares knock

With such an icy hand?

White frost flashes diamond sharp,

And as November gales whip the vestiges of russet leaves

From the aging ash, revealing her

Unguarded bare-barked beauty,

So does this white witch strip me.

I stand naked and shivering in the rimy wind,

Fatally flawed and hopelessly human.

White frost like gossamer satin settles on my shoulders;

A whispering seraphim ministering medicine to my battle-scared heart.

Tears score hot lines down my face,

And arms open wide, I am left in bone sweet wonder.

Her alchemy complete, the strange angel

Smiles, sighs, then satisfied, is gone,

Becoming one with the silvery points of crystal

Glistening in the dawn’s gray light

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