Interlude: Winter Imp

4 December, 2018 by katelaity

Gould imp michaels crag
Winter Imp

The fog comes in on cat’s paws,
The frost upon its breath.
The mist signals magic:
The cold heralds death.
Winter can be cheery
With holidays and light.
Be wary in the woods
And the icy velvet night.
For something waits in darkness
To find you quite alone.
To wrap you in blue fingers
And take you to its home.
The imp is not quite evil—
Just craving company.
The pity is its glacial touch
Holds perpetuity.



[Image, as always, via the British Library Flickr account: from Michael’s Crag by Grant Allen, illustrations by Francis and Alec Carruthers Gould, 1893]


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