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
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