a snowscape, blizzard
blown to meringue peaks
out along the razor’s edge
horizon of the soul sucking cold
Pavlova twirling winds
la petite sauvage shivers
dying swan with numb feet
in the ice snow- nothing grows
bared legs- light blue pale
light, grace on-point
tutu frosted like a skier’s beard
at the end of a hard-fought race
dark hair pinned properly in place
suspended temporarily atop
a pent seething torrent
nature awaiting release
arms spread wing-wide
moonlight’s shooting spotlight
captures her shit eating grin
frozen in place
tamingthemilemonster 