Frosting

Maybe it explains why I tend to gain weight in the winter. I looked out my window and groaned - white here, white there, white, white everywhere! The first snow of the season touches that tiny fear of winter's cold breath searching out every crack in my house and turning my floors into icy paths for bare morning feet. It is the season of the long, cold sleep and longer, colder, darker -- seemingly endless nights.

But for some reason, it also stirs images of frosted cakes and gingerbread houses covered in white icing, whipped cream drifts, and soft powdered sugar. Who would have thought Jack Frost had a sweet-tooth?

Mick

Frosting

Marshmallow drifts softly melted on stones,
Slowly cover grass, wherever they can.
Blanketed cars become white-dusted scones,
Parked near buildings bright-trimmed in marzipan.
Dancing trees shake thick white frosting from limbs,
Sweetening layers of ice cream below;
Shimmering winds singing soft winter hymns,
Scatter the translucent, crystalline snow.
Though reds and golds are now covered with white,
And chilly wind fingers are so unkind,
I'm wondering why the cold wintry sight,
Brings such sweet confections springing to mind -
Once the warm caramel winds of July,
Blow confectioners sugar from the sky.

Mick McKellar
November 2007