The urge for hibernation,
held, till now, at bay
by so many color saturated
delightful days
receives a strong inducement
from the sudden cold —
seeping through the weave of clothing,
tightening my skin —
and the soft contrast
of the heated house,
and the early dark outside

Why not succumb
to the rumbling and rolling
sweeping world of dream
as folded and layered as covers
above sleep’s turnings,
wild as any autumn cold snap,
enticing as the blankets’ cave
of inner warmth.

©Wendy Mulhern
November 12, 2014