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