When Autumn breaks, gives way to white snow
We race to play in our wintry fields
Make our first steps in the untouched White glow,
Then down icy track so the crisp crust yields.
Red cheeked, a red robin, balancing high
On frosted cold ledge on Jack’s Frosted eave.
A burning warm fire permits our happy sigh;
We love the deep Winter, knows it’s a truth.
Outside our children dance in the pure snow;
hurl quick-scooped white balls at each cold face
Then scream in delight, duck their heads well low.
They play, mother-clothed, in that new place.
Smiling at memory, the adults take a breath
And consider themselves, by warm Winter,….blest.