Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Snow on the heights,
the mountains robed,
white swathes bite,
the frozen probe,
blunted by the sun,
the stream slips,
and winter’s done,
cold water nips.
Line count: 8
Rhymed abab
For Express It In Eight, 01.26,23
Prompt: Cold water.
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