White Feathers of Winter

My breath catches, not from cold, but the sight.

The world is dusted in white feathers.

A mysterious moisture fills the air

Jack teased the water vapor into crystals, which landed on the trees

Now they're covered in feathers, as if wearing a coat

The sun peeks the curious sight

It wakes, and becomes mischievous

Poking them with its rays, it coaxes them to fall

As hundreds release their grip, a magical sight

A flurry of fairy wings fall from the sky

My breath again catches at the sight