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
Rumpled blanket, indeed. Beautiful Lizette.
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