Winter Rental

A lazy, white slope leads down to an old wooden fence;
A fence that would deter no intruder,
Yet acts as a caution to wayward toboggans
Of the stream that lies abruptly ahead.

A cold, hard gust stings as it sweeps,
Rolling down from peaks high above.
Parents shield themselves with scarves and the like,
Smiling children let icy faces go numb.

A dark, frigid phantom claims the alpine air
As the last rays retreat beyond jagged cliffs.
Lanterns are lit as the stars come to join them
Shining the path back up to the cabins.

A bright, dancing blaze dries the boots on the hearth
While it warms cold noses and mallows on sticks.
Board games are played and, soon, off to bed,
Resting to tackle steep fears in the morning.

A lazy, white slope leads down to an old wooden fence:
A soft, safe retreat in the shadow of looming giants.