HIBERNATOR


When the swallows have left

And summer is set at rest

And the Autumn leaves

Leaves us with leaves upon which we tread.

And the Winter of the dead

Sits cruelly upon the ground.

The crunching of the snow

Reminds us of the warm fireside glow

And the beating of the rain

Matches the beating of the heart.

It’s time to stop and start

And stop again.

Curl up in the corner in a heap

And go to sleep.

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