The sport of Winter

horizon is frozen
and the forward sweep of
swirling, leaping snow
dusts the wind in a
hazy Broadway lit canopy
following the smooth curves
of the hips and hills
lips
pills
shallower the ditches and bent
grass, crisp with frost
pulls in cryptic lines
teased by electromagnetic
forces
heartbeats
and humming transformers dripping
ice daggers poised
to leap into the void
as if hoping to float
like soft petals of
spring
smash
into crystal bones on
the glazed blacktop