Anna Blake Godbout
Notes from the Ridge
Late Afternoon in Early Winter
Early winter has descended upon us in Colorado. A November blizzard and more since then has brought us into a season of quiet and white sooner than expected. In a world outside of quiet snowfalls, it is joyful to walk among summer and autumn that once was.
The wood stove fire burns slowly,
warmth seeps into ridges of a red fleece blanket
that adorns my shivering shoulders.
Outside the snow softly falls,
swirls of silver and white cover
autumn into bare branched silence.
North winds howl,
white tailed deer scrape snow on their tongues
on a late afternoon in early winter.
Caught in high country silence,
I sit and wonder, will we ever dance together again,
one more time to embrace
the soft rustlings of our mountain love.
The late afternoon begins to dim;
Night fall trails and gives way to the gray violet of snowy dusk.
I listen for your voice to echo down the high country ridge;
a gesture of your long awaited return home.
Outside the mountain settles into an early winter,
the deer and I wait for December snows to end,
and the passes to clear,
to welcome the pale glimmer of morning.
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