Together By the Stove

Pinhead sized raindrops fall in numbers, attempting to imitate fog Green needled giants with red bark stand at attention and point at the sky The odd deciduous turns yellow as though in fear of the impending cold They are dwarfed by valley walls which are sealed above by oppressive clouds Mighty Columbia drops an ice cold tongue, coloured from the cleanest blue to the dirtiest grey, to lick the valley floor It drools crystal clear water and spits moraine POP! The wood makes the same sound being split by fire or by axe We face each other on a bench by the stove We alternate sides attempting to maintain a balance between the side feeling the heat of the stove and the other being chilled by the mountain breeze Our hot side like the heat of summer and our cold side like the chill of winter The seasons change in us as they do outside Each season returning to itself in the course of time White streaks through dark night-sky-hair to slowly become the meteor shower that awaits us