I like frosting on cookies and cake,
I like it pink or white,
But the frosting that pleases me most of all
Comes on a clear cold night.
This is a frosting not made to taste,
But the kind that’s like silvery fur,
Clothing the bareness of leafless trees,
Of the grass, and each crackling burr.
Oh, I am glad when I see frost
Sparkling in early day,
For I like to watch how the magic of light
Nibbles it all away.