You humble, bumbling, fuzzy bugger
in your Halloween-colored coat,
trundle through the summer sunshine
chewing leaves until the spun fine
silk cocoon contains your lifeline.
Then, when you could not be snugger,
slumber till the springtime molt.
Life is brief and so uncertain.
We scry the winter in your bars,
then fill the woodshed and the larder
to be prepared against the harder
season soon to come, and barter
labor now for comfort when
the hungry wolves howl down the stars.
