The brittle white blanket of newfallen snow

Trees covered in fresh powder and the moon aglow

Translucent and shining like a spider's silk

As white and pure as a sow's fresh milk.

The dark air sharp but perpetually still

A cluster of barren trees abreast a hill

Creatures lost in the dreams of frosty sleep

The touch of winter unbearably deep.

From the hollow of a tree amber eyes glint

Their mysterious stare half gnarled and bent

By the curving branches of dead oaks

And as you walk past your breath smokes.

The eternal moon in its twilight sky

The piercing ring of a dove's cry

Mystifying and silent the shadows glide

Nary another soul in which to confide.

The open land teems with wondrous light

Deep in the depths of a midwinter's night.