As wood stove burns,
Small enclosure fills with smoke
Cling to its acrid warmth;
dare not venture into the cold
And yet — !
The way out is through
When has it been otherwise?
Or march into the snow
Out of hazy-warmths
Does the winter pass?
Or do you pass the winter?
The way out is through
When has it been otherwise?
Chill air and bright eyes
As one’s blood gets hot again