The Hunter's Tale

Truth.

Deep cold it was, wind, icy brisk
And I'd been out all day,
Hunting for whatever game
The Lord might send my way.

But now I am all turnt around
And don't know where I be.
Nothing that I'm seeing here
Looks like home, to me.

My backbone gnaws against my chest
This hunt is nigh to moot
And dying soon, I'd be so blessed
For I can't see to shoot.

My musket lies beside me now
The powder, surely wet
I'll sit me down upon this stone
And rest me for a bit.

I'm looking at the ground, you see,
But when I raise my eyes
A snow maiden, she stands 'fore me
An' I'm certain, I have died.

She's blue, and white, covered with snow
She doesn't mind a bit
She stretches, as if unaware
That I am watching it.

Hair blowin' in the winter wind
And naked as can be
She turns her body my way
And looks straight-on at me.

I can't move or say a word. I am barely thinking
She breathes, yon puff of frosted breath
Eyes hollow, white, unblinking.
'n I wonder, how could this be Death.

She reaches out, beckons me,
That I should follow her.
I stumble, rising to my feet
For surely, I concur.

I'll never know what happened.  
It's all that I can say.
I followed till she faded.
Her image went away

But 'fore me in the forest
I see it, 'mongst the trees
My cabin, warm an' warmer
And now I shall not freeze.

She'd been an apparition, right?
No clothing in the cold
I know I'll see her in my dreams
Till I am very old.

You know, of course, I've looked for her
For what stands unexplained
The fire in my cook stove
And the food upon my range.

For she was not an angel. 
Those, I'm told, have wings.
But she was bare as I was born,
And, she had other things.

***