LEANAN SIDHE

I lay still, soft and pliable

Sleeping, lazy-flat, unformed

With just enough cold to maintain

an oblong dense expanse of white

Until happening along, he came

Playful, gloved, and blue scarf-wound

Windbroke in his down-filled vest,

Already denim soaked knee-deep in me.

He puffed his wind-pink cheeks up full,

And stooped to scoop and scooped up well,

Patted firm, packed, and scooped up again

Until there was some beginning form.

It puzzled me - that he would stay

So long working wet and tired -

Patient, molding, coaxing, so completely sure

That I would come, at last, to something.

He sculpted out my snow-blind eyes,

Placed my nose where it belonged,

Parted my lips with purposed thumbs,

And rounded out my chin within his palm.