The cabin’s door was ajar,
through the back window
a river of afternoon sunlight came,
flooded the room
ran over the threshold,
down wooden steps
and disappeared into brown soil.
Then the river narrowed
became fainter,
till it was only a dusty cabin floor.

When shadows filled the room,
ran over the threshold
down wooden steps
into brown soil,
I shuttered the window,
lit a candle and a fire,
the air had fingers of chill in its grasp-
an omen telling of
a colder future –
and closed the door,
keeping the night at bay!
For now.