The Face of Winter

She stands—

a frozen flower;

frostbitten.

A gaze that could wither

the sturdiest tree

is aimed at the right.

Bull’s eye.

With skin fairer 

than Snow White,

the Face of Winter

ignores all else

while being

trapped within her 

dark restraints

that weigh her down—

the only thing keeping her from blowing away

and snapping in half. 

What a brittle, frostbitten little flower.

The Face of Winter

she stands—

a frozen flower

frostbitten. 

Frost-covered

frost

living a dream.