She feared winter.
It was here. Her camouflage was dieing. Exposed in cold. Hidden in fog.
She feared a pogrom,
her computer crashing,
the close proximity of strangers on a bus.
All the fears all at once.
She feared fear. There is a name for that.
She saw it was National Poetry Day in Black History month, the calendar days ticked off.
She will gather supplies for hibernation and hide away.