I opened my door this morning, inviting the cold air to step in for a moment.
The snow trailed in with her and not all the birds were sleeping.

Fox is curled up somewhere,
dormant,
a dull blaze.

I will be building an altar today,
for Yule,
For gladness and cold,
a stepping stone to Beltane.

The earth is beautiful
as its eyelashes
drop
into sleep.