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
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