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.