Cabin Dream

Cabin Dream

Chipmunks frolic in the wet snow
Smoke trails from chimney fire,
I, to my warm bed retire
and listen to the north wind blow.

I hear your voice, sweet and low
and feel the memory of desire.
Chipmunks frolic in the wet snow.
Smoke trails from chimney fire.

In dreams I cry “Please don’t go!”
I hear the crackling funeral pyre-
ascending ash, a murky black crow
dressed in sorrow’s grim attire.

Chipmunks frolic in the wet snow