Winter Solstice Lament

I am sunk deep in the dark of this day, peer out of a hollow that holds the tribe's history drawn in ochre on a rock wall. Outside is a numb, frozen world that yields little food. Animals are scarce and I am kept alive by stealth and making most of the meager offerings that fall to my spear. I hate being here, imprisoned in a poem, placed in this icy wasteland of prehistory, cold, abandoned in a pocket of time by a poet sitting in a warm room in the twenty-first century. Note. Winter Solstice will occur on the the twenty first of June for us southern hemisphere tribes.