You will want to live in bed all day, to eat more carbs, to begin, like the black bear, to fill yourself in anticipation of long sleep.
Make it to work anyway. Pay rent with the money you are making and buy new boots for your sweetheart. His feet are already wet with leaves that sizzled down with last week’s rain.
Burrow a little. Drink in warmly the world as a cup of steamed cider. But don’t forget to spring out of it. Wake up before the sky begins to peel back to light.
Make love in the morning and in afternoons as sweet as morning.
The world calls out from all sides, the street and the phone in your pocket. Converse with silence.
Prepare for spring by sinking back. Crouch low to the earth, as though to plant seeds, knowing it will soon be frozen.
Do not worry over dirt. Love the ground and the day and the long stretch of night that will soon be tucking you in for a long December.