Sin, fiery fissure,

broken connection, lost in the reeds,

kissed by snows softened fingers,

lacking rings, no commitment, but to fall

Each stalk sits silent, yet receptive, frosty bite, carries caress

Yet costly price each pellet piercing, like nails that tore into His flesh

Appearances can be quite deceptive,

Snowflakes corpus carries cost

Yields initial fresh refreshment, yet frost hurls its enmeshment,

Stalks scarred by rime

Flaky confetti fast now spinning, dancing like a Rorschach test,

Green stalks now gray silver lining, appearing aged and icy shards

Sin seducing, then reducing, sacred fire’s intimacy

-Frank Attanasia

-3/19/2002