ICY LANE
The snow feels soft beneath my sodden feet,
As falls white dandelions' feathery down,
And it performs God's greatest winter feat
To present each tree a silver crown.
The world is dressed in creamy winter white,
And gently falling bluish angels' hair
Gives sky and river both a misty light
Which leaves no twig or rock or bridge-post bare.
The icy branches locked above my head
Are much like arbors of the whitest rose
Whose fallen milky petals form a bed
That's oddly tufted by the rabbits' toes.
This scene of ancient beauty I behold
As night writes a new story yet not told.
Evelyn Rhea Eichen, 1946
Age 17
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