[image from ipzircon.deviantart.com]
is breaking across
the horizon.
A raven's
gobble-cry
wakes her.
Wild Woman stirs
in her fur robe,
comes out
of her cave
and surveys
the morning.
It is the end
of the Hungry season,
the season in which
her wolf companion
died.
His pelt she keeps
wrapped around her,
for comfort.
Even gone, he is
still helping her
to survive.
The days are growing
longer, now.
In the evenings,
her heart leaps
at the extra hour of light
added to the day.
When she sits by
her campfire,
the sparks floating up
as darkness falls,
she plans for tomorrow's hunt:
certain leaves, morels,
and rosehips,
anything to fill the ache
of a too-long winter.
Soon the babies
will begin
to clamber about:
cougar and wolf,
bear and fawn.
Bald baby eagles
will appear in the nest
above her sitting place.
She takes heart
and hopefulness
from the turning
of the seasons.
The time ahead
will be easier,
because of
all the light.
