Wind curls around a corner of the lodge,
brushes her cheek like a lover,
tousles night-black hair.
Pungent-scented paper-whites bend lower,
touch loamy soil,
prepare to die.
Earth stretches to embrace daybreak,
surrenders flecks of frost,
drinks in warmth.
Facing East, raising a weathered face
into early light,
Wisdom Keeper lifts her
Submitted to One Shot Wednesday: http://onestoppoetry.com/