....Dawn, Mountains, Time....


Awash in warm yellow
                          light-a distillation of
           December sunrise, and being in love.
Lying naked under blankets, and quilts; and wrapped
                                         in the still new scent of her;
Watching the high-cold- blue shadowed plains of Montana receive,
                            with open arms, that same light.
Smiling to be in love with native charm, and wild abandon;
the twin daughters of grandfather Sun and grandmother Moon
                                                - embodied in the supple soul of this one winsome daughter
                                        of the Cheyenne.
I hear her
in the kitchen making breakfast.
Humming
some morning song.
Old as the hills.

                                           ColdMountain/ThreeCrows  12/02