Kevin -
I admired this when it was originally posted for the wondrous things it did with language and the word sounds; and its ability to work through all those sestina stanzas with very little variance in the use and meaning of the key words - and yet still not look labored. Most sestinas start breathing heavily about S3, as the writer struggles to find still one more way to use the goddammed word without being repetitive (personally, I always cheat by starting with words which have 47 meanings and a string of homonyms, but you didn't stoop that low), and you avoided this by telling six separate tales, so that every stanza seemed fresh. (I've always been a Little Match Girl fan, so it was good to see she's still remembered.)
I share Mr. Wilbur's reservations with the thumping tetrameter, and I guess what really bothers me is that the meter - which tends to dominate the poem - really does not relate to either the skirling, swirling feel of blowing snow; or the quiet fall of heavy snow in still air. Your intelligent ear normally does a very good job of matching rhythm and meter to poem, but in this case - even with the good sibilance and alliteration ("fly, all fletched with freezing feathers" is right up there with "nattering nabobs of negativism") - my nit with the poem is that rhythm and meter do not follow content. I would have preferred a looser, longer line.
Michael Cantor
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