Just Hibernate

Winter bends low to blow gusty breaths, cold, out of his northern lair beyond the warm of summer’s enfolding. Capricious, bold he plans his escapades of icy storm. Clutching for a covering, nature gasps, trembling in a landscape grown terrible; ice-brittle moisture ricochets and rasps on soft skin with rough strokes unbearable. Firesides signal soft, cozy indoor dreams of warm nests stitched in quilted eiderdown; we bequeath outdoors to winter’s dark schemes to clothe the green world in dismal brown gown. Three months to hibernate; he will retreat before a stronger sun and winds grown sweet. Copyright, November 18, 2019 Fall Sonnets Poetry Contest Emile Pinet, Sponsor