Winter's First Bite

" Winter's First Bite "

She steps out onto the front stoop
         to inspect the sky, a stone-grey wall.
Once breath is spoken,
         its frozen cloud remains suspended,
         waiting only to drop and crash into splintered crystals.
Flecks of prism color could be real or imagined
          scattered,
                   splattered.
Those tiny frigid messengers
         of an impending Winter Storm
         bounce,
                   dance
         off the ground with timeless motion
         transforming as frosted sprites.
They become content with intention to
         tease and taunt the speaker
         to retreating indoors.
Miniscule white bites convince her moment
         to retrace steps back across the threshold.