Sunday Morning Early
Sitting on the cabin porch
I stare off to Crane Mountain
lording it over Huckleberry
Ridge like a long, slow rivalry
between geological teenagers
until my mind blanks just as,
lifted by the Sun’s early heat,
gentle orographic winds drift
up the valley onto our porch,
where, had I a dog’s nose, I’d
read them like a newspaper.
Read More Poems From the New York Almanack HERE.
Ed, Just after sitting on my farmhouse porch in the hills of Otsego County, refreshing my senses as my mind relaxed, I came in and read your poem.. I thought- yes, he too understands. THANK YOU !!
Ed,
A beautiful description.
Thank you.