He saw the girls of winter in their purple rages
Touch their wrinkled loss and beauty dreams
Fire and flame their fickle loves and limbs
And toss their tickled times to weary nights.
These girls of cold and ice he felt their chill
And in his wasted moments warmed the ill
And sickness of their lonely hours.
These girls of frost and freeze he sensed their sad
And spent sore skins and recognized their ends
And where the tips and toes were touched
The frost-bit maidens felt their loss
And warmed their purple limbs in memory's fire
And kept to selfish selves their lost desire.