January Trees

January Trees
a poem by Luana Krause

I arise at dawn and wait for first light. The frost takes my breath away.

Wrapped in a cocoon of cold, I am held captive by the winter trees. During the night they turned white; the Creator using his ethereal impasto technique to create texture and form.

The frost is thick on the branches that reach toward heaven. Majestic sculptures of ice on exhibit in God’s museum for all to see.