She preys. Do not stare. Do not dare expose.
For not only fingers and toes, she claims dormant dreams.
Frostbitten, snow bedridden, left for near dead dreams, her crown.
A cold-veined thief. Medusa of snow. Her wrath cuts through and beyond, chilling to the bone.
Her cues from the swirling sun, she offered a profile of frozen spirals to the withering stems of fall.
Summer rendered and fall relinquished dreams due now to winter. Her silvery dew reclaimed the moonlit visions reflected before in cloudless climes.
Then winter became.
The banner, the tender, the lover keeping vigil during the frosted hours of wanting.