On the first day of winter,â€¨ the earth awakens
to the cold touch of itself.
Snow knows no other recourse
except â€¨this falling, this sudden letting go
over the small gnomed bushes, all the emptying trees.
Snow puts beauty back
into the withered and malnourished,
into the death-wish of nature and the deliberate way
on nothing less than deference.
Waiting all its life, snow says, Let me cover you.
– Laura Lush