1.
The steam rises
thick and dripping
the sweat of Putting By
and I have to tell myself
a hundred times
I will be glad of this long night
come the bitter cold of February
the effort is worth the reward
the effort is worth the reward
the Harvest mantra
I close my eyes
and I cannot picture what I am preparing for
I don't see the duck tracks in the snow
I don't see the long spears of ice hanging from the roof
and that's okay
it is not yet February, after all
my little world now is golden
is russet
is burnt orange and cranberry red
is fire
is ochre and beeswax
is warmth
and glowing
is gifts from the earth
and songs
of busy-ness
of industry and fortification
of harmony
of buzzing and humming
for now, right now
all are Days for Doing, days that Rabbit would like
I like them, too.
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