Ninilchik (Winter)

A timid bit of white light

Crawls across the gray horizon

Shivers, then climbs, then finds

The fight too hard, and slides instead

Beside the icy earth 

As drowsy humans fight

The urge to hibernate

And rise to stoke the fires

That coax aglow the embers of their souls:

Light, and warmth, and hope

Fed branch by branch
And home by home.

(this poem is a companion to this one I wrote a while ago, describing my Alaskan town in spring).