In my dreams I heard the silent incantation
tumbling through the orange night
woke to find seven inches of magic
wrapping my hard-bitten street
like a belated Christmas present
the gleam of broken syringes
transmuted into the glitter of snow
wool-snuggled, I go searching for a lonely faun
to invite back home for tea and toast.
This is a jigsaw poem, drawing on 10 words supplied by various poetswhoblog contributors, specifically: seven, hard, bite, belated, gleam, broken, syringe, snow, lone, toast. I’ve tried to capture the amazing feeling of a recent day of deep snow, which completely transformed my street.