23 January, 2011

Another Memory

St. Vrain Autumn Morning

Soft, the infant alpenglow, morning in the mist,

Wrapped tight against night’s cold hands.

Listen, she hears the subtle splash of tailwalking trout.

Hungry for the slow rise of autumn mayflies.

Her desire to stretch, loosen sleep chilled muscles,

Pump fresh blood and heat from yesterday’s sun.

Her desire for coffee heat and caffeine’s sultry buzz

As sunrise rises flush with Autumn’s promised whisper.

Drowsy, her fertile green eyes open, peer slow

Into a hazy soft sunrise slipping through the window.

Dark tresses undone, she brushes the tangle away.

Time to rise and time to call the fire and iron hot.

Medicine for cold mountain mornings, campfire coffee.

She knows it and slips from the sleeping bag warmth

Into morning light, sub-alpine cold, flint crisp, sharp.

Into sheepskin slippers and a flannel shirt, aged and worn.

Practiced hands build a quick kindling knot and strike fire

Hot on a cast iron grate where aspen and pine flames crackle

Boiling bright metallic water, fresh from St. Vrain Creek

She pours water in blackened pot, more wood on the fire.

The cold bites. She shivers and pulls the old flannel close

Her heat releases his scent: honest sweat and wood smoke,

Old Spice and rye whiskey linger in threads…and laughter.

Remembrance, a slow smile settles on her sleepy face.

The measure of coffee poured, the measure of her own depths

Where once, heat met heat and wet welded two souls as one.

Sad the smile, long in history, long in the cold since he died.

Dark coffee, measured and set to brew, dark memories sigh.

Silence broken by the crack and pop of pitch exploding in fire.

Fragrance, the lingering specters in the morning soft light.

Strong pulses wash through her veins, blood and memories,

Green eyes glow, deep in her belly, long held fire grows.

Low in the dark depths, her woman’s well burns slow

Her slumbering serpent self waits and grumbles hungry

While the sunrise and heat rise and coffee comes to boil

Steaming dark on a St. Vrain Autumn morning.

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