Hoary frill
Of albino thorns
On brittle twigs
Spear tips of white
Serrate blades of grass
Breath uncurls
Thin vapor lingers
A translucent scarf
Stillness
No bird chirp
No dog bark
Soft earth turned to stone
Needles of cold
Press deeper into skin
Pale sky
Cloudless
Eyes slapped by
Blinding white sun
Brings a thin
Promise of thaw
Sunset
May as well be
The dark side
Of the moon