White Clothing
Our plains winters often pass over
with only blistering cold, the land
wind-sculpted clear down to the skeletal.
These are the remains we all have to
leave behind, anyway. It is not always
pretty, but if you prefer economy of means,
that ideal is achieved in a year such as this
when everything is stylish
in ice and piles of white
and a prairie spread of white.
Fashion did not begin
until Adam and Eve had to hide
their nakedness with leaves and such.
This year the jays and cardinals
are fat already,
but they visit me splashily
all over snow's light-returning blanket.
I thank heaven for this covering,
the satisfaction of my deep desire
to hide the ugly facts.