Easy to Turn Up the Heat

The house grows cold. 
I pull up the sheet and blanket,
then the duvet:
stuffed as it is with white feathers,
it adds no weight.

The larva in its cocoon, 
the sleeping frogs, 
turtles at the bottom of the pond,
together wait
patiently for the sun, minds set
on basking.

These are the sun's true believers.
It has always come.
Never late, 
it appears on its own
without their asking.