"On the first day of winter
the earth awakens to the cold touch of it self.
Snow knows no other recourse except
this falling, this sudden letting go
over the small gnomed bushes, all the
emptying trees, snow puts beauty back
into the withered and malnourished,
into the death-wish of nature and the
deliberate way winter insists on nothing
less than deference. Waiting all its life,
snow says, "Let me cover you."