Wynter Magyck

Mithras, Christmas or Abra-December;
she shall appear in her star-covered cape;
vanishing tarmac in ptarmigan feathers;
weaving the straight-jacket that she’ll escape.

Ermine haired men struggle hard to remember;
the rope trick of rising mist sighs from their mouths
as they strain to remember the secrets she whispered;
not the hag-witch watch hands which palmed their youth.