Winters bough

The crisp lay of my foot
Tat tatter upon the icy verge
layer after layer
Of water particles
That had abandoned themselves
To snow
And fell headlong
Into a winters chorus
Of epic precautions
That filled the sky

Above me no trace
Of what lies beneath my foot
As my gaze is a taken
With a bough framed
By the trunk
Of an old oak
Resplendent
And dear

I see blues
Like I never see
At any other time
Of the year
As the winters maiden
Casts her earthly spell
And I am bound
Willingly
In her embrace