Shelter

The sun-dappled path
Seems darker now.

The west wind roars
In the upper boughs,

Chipmunks scurry—
Daylight is shorter now.

I turn at the creek
And head for home;

A rabbit scampers
At the warning of crows.

Soon the ground will be frosted
With early snow,

And tracks of a hare
Will cross my own.

But all other life
Will stay in their lairs,

And only woodsmen
Will know they’re there.

And you and I
Will sit by the fire

Nestled with our animals
From winter’s ire

Safe from the wind
Down the chimney stone

In the cozy warmth
Of a den of our own.