Night's Negligee Poem by Jacob Bearer

At night the field slips on a negligee of white mist
that glides down the plain's winter body
while the boughs curl their fingers
before my trail crunched in the snow -
hollow steps that disappear in their backtracking rows.
The moonlight stains the fabric white,
and as if the dead limbs feel my breath add to the cloth drawn tight
they snap out this dance with the wintry night
that unsure steps misstep on tree root toes.
With chills the air kisses my chin
and ungloves my cracked hands
that want to grasp the soft folds of night.