Hibernation

We prepare a bed of leaves in a hidden place

as these hard days shorten.

I tell the forest not to wake me until...

possibly the snow drops appear,

perhaps the moon looks more kindly,

maybe the hanging tree ceases

to bear its weight.

I invite the animals in the cave,

predator to predator, victim to prey.

This way we forget, long sleep together.

The north wind is talked to,

told to stop its winter howling,

and the mind, the mind becomes blind to pain.

I fall asleep, almost despite myself,

never having hibernated before.

(Bear grumbles,  badger whispers, others mumble.)

And as I fall in step with the season,

worse moves outside in the nightmare snow.

I am a graceless soul who knows now,

falling asleep in the dark,

there is no waking for such as us.