From Many Winters, 1974, by Nancy Wood
Old Man Winter blew in on a cloud from the north
And lay down on the mountaintops
Covering them with snow.
His fingers reached down to the valleys below
Stealing the leaves from the trees.
His hands closed around the water
Gripping it with ice.
His breath roared out from his lips
Stopping all streams at their source.
The feet of Old Man Winter walked upon the earth
Freezing all the grass.
When he was through
Old Man Winter curled up and went to sleep
Drawing into himself