Hail, Lady Moon, traversing frost-rimed night,
pearl palely rescued from tumulted sea.
Both blue jay and cardinal, in solo flight,
flit in bright plumage from snowfield to tree.
Tracks at marsh-edge reveal turkey and grouse;
deer dance, then stumble, where deep drifts arise.
Frozen ground conceals hibernating mouse;
Crow croaks a chorus of secrets and lies.
In uncovered flesh, a chill yet lingers—
sharp pangs like bright stars in Orion’s belt,
stretching of skin over aching fingers
rubbed raw, and wind-slashed, and sprinkled with salt.
Meadow mirrors sky, glimmering with ice,
and warmth seems a gift, precious beyond price.
