The Cascade foothills
Stretch out like
Spring walking from winter
Over wet fields
Soon to be filled
Cold mornings still with frost
Morning eyes and long sinew
Yawn the evening sun
Exhale the clouds
then she looks around
for her book and
her dog
rolls on her side and
waits for coffee
and the sound of feet on the stairs
her eyes the grey blue
of a foggy morning
her humor as clear and
bright when the
sun burns the clouds off
comfort and hope mixed
with the challenge
to weed the garden, ready
the year and laugh