I don't like to hibernate alone.
I feel cheated that, at least,
While I sleep,
I should have little triplet cubs
That could fit in a teacup.
They could nurse and nuzzle me,
And while they grow,
Their tiny paws could tickle me
And scratch away,
And I could dream of salmon
In the cold stream and catching them
And eating them and sharing them with my young.

But as it is, I will wake alone
My children will be grown
And I will be left to wonder where they've gone.
Or maybe it is I who've gone astray
And my waking is from some other time
And from some other hibernation place,
And maybe, by then, I will have grown up, too.

-jenn