Winter Moment

 

The silent flakes of snow, like dainty white

and flitting whimsies in a frenzied quest

to join as one, unerringly alight

upon my path, as if at my behest.

 

The odor, sweet, of burning maple curls

through thickened flurry walls; a wolflike whine

betrays the gale arising as it swirls

and bullies through the tips of stubborn pine.

 

The cabin beckons me; a dullish light

prepares me for a welcome interlude

of warmth and sustenance, an age-old rite,

an intercourse of fire and solitude.

 

The wintry pomp and bluster need not cease,

for in my womblike refuge I'm at peace.