Here, in this moonlit forest, midnight’s snowfall shimmers softly through the boughs of old growth, deep and still, as if an infinity of star clusters has drifted to rest from the heavens. It blankets our high-mountain meadow in pearled crystal down.
This night falls quiet and crisp, as a great white owl echoes hauntingly through frosted cedar. Moonbeams sparkle off the snow-draped conifers, like diamonds — necklaced enticingly ‘round the supple shoulders of fair lithe ladies.
We linger and listen, entwined ‘neath winter’s window, mesmerized by this chill magic that enchants the sleeping earth. Soon we will dream, safe and warm, quiet in the hush of this realm, nestled ‘tween solstice past, and the equinox that approachs.
adrift in winter magic
freed of time and space
I’m the fragile fall of snow
softly blanketing the earth
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rob kistner © 2022
Poetry at: dVerse