The breath of winter spreads a filigree of ice

upon the hands of trees. She whispers the promise

of eternal love in white. Forget the sun, she tells you

I am here to stay. Lover to darkness, she holds

the power of warmth, forcing the shivering limbs

to layer or retreat. Yet the tree remembers life

a sentinel to time, enduring elements

and the knowing that the light will melt

beauty’s truth

For Sue Vincent’s weekly #writephoto prompt.