[i]Spinning Straw[/i]

thatch-roofed farmer's born inside the loft new hare amid golden straw
snow fur like fresh milk ladled out in silver bowls over discussion 
an adoption—how? son visits daily chores bringing blankets 

winter fabric comes uninvited guests—white bandits descend on rooftops 
creaking winds ripping collapsing stores then stolen from torn barn ruins
no hare harmed inside golden fleece awaits farmer without barn or crops
their salvation—how? farmer goes nightly finds fine silks within 

needling eyes bite the unseen hand that feeds thread followed to spools 
unraveling looms over an old empty wheel spins yarn no longer 
fleeced—planting returns a barn to former glory inside full milk bowl.