Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Sunrise at the Cabin

It’s 11:30 am.

The golden liquid sun

has just now spilled

through the trees

to touch the cabin.

The snow appears

to be an even blanket

until the sun

skips across its

rumpled surface.

When “they” made the bed

they forgot to smooth

out the blanket.

How like life.

Our thoughts have

the pattern all

smooth and consistent.

Yet living them,

we consistently

hit the rumpled bumps.

Lizette Estelle Stiehr

December 5, 2010

At Molly and Greggs cabin

In Trapper’s Creek

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