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