The Winter Queen beads I stride into the hall

I stride into the hall

a reflection of autumn’s embrace and the shimmer of dawn’s first light

Slight contraction observed

its lost buttons

The Winter Queen beads I stride into the hallThe Winter Queen stepped into the clearing with empty hands. There were no others brought out this time. The necklaces that once held the longer nights had already been spent, their beads dulled, their weight gone. This was the last one left. They placed it in her hands without a word. Even before she moved, you could feel it the stored cold, pressed deep into the beads, held through the long stretch of summer when the nights had grown too short for