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The stones are freezing upon cement
The snow quite chilly melted wet.
Why then do they sit so still?
And not proceed right down the hill
Could it be the wind so strong?
Has frightened them
And made thou calm
But, hence the wheel
With in the bark
Is much bewildered by the dark
For she is young
And does not know
How safe she is
Inside the barks warm dome,
But she must run
To investigate
I wish you’d think-
Please hesitate—
“No,” I have to get away
Into a new meadow,
1,000 miles away.

By: Jill Reynolds
2017
Written February 16, 1972

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