BONE COLD
She huddles in a straight chair
in the frigid, bare cabin
shivering under a gray threadbare blanket
Gasps of breath ride
the air in white misty streams

The snowcapped mountains rear up
outside her small cabin window
shrinking the room to a prison

She rises, draping the blanket hoodlike around her
while her cracked leather boots
hammer the floor with staccato pacings

Her numb, scarlet face frames the window. She smiles
as a tall, bearded man lumbers up the snowy path
dodging alabaster patches of ice

The door creaks open
The sturdy man arranges kindling in the fireplace
Strikes a blue match and the gnawing cold
slowly flees from their marrow and bones