i climb from bed
to feel cold morning air,
every window open and the sudden
summer shiver of bare feet
on the wood floor. I dress
quicky for my run,
flip on the car's heater
as I drive the quiet early miles
to my favorite dirt road.
I pass two velvety looking bucks
their heads down, graceful in a sea
of alfalfa.
I run east, toward the smoky
outline of the Tobacco Root range,
not turning back until the sun
starts to rise, a thick vibrant pink
a color that says
I'm used to getting what I want.
I chase the retreat of purple shadows back
toward my car.
Even here,
just over a month past solstice
there are reminders everywhere:
a patch of yellow in the cottonwoods,
the river current crawling into lull,
exposing roots and thirsty stones,
the perfect V of geese flying overhead,
Even now,
in the lush fullness of midsummer
there are reminders-
in the mountains of Montana
winter never feels
too
far away.
No comments:
Post a Comment