You said you hear the coyotes
more at night now,
that deer traipse down
the gully’s broken scree
with inherent trepidation,
their silence speaking
for them as much as any yip
or yowl.
I miss the cold nights there
when it’s so clear
a halo rounds the moon,
sharp air forcing awe
from my ungrateful lungs.
I miss the length
of a northern winter night,
with ample room
for new and old fears,
and how fresh snow
seems to temper them
best with its absolute silence,
more presence
than absence, more
an answer,
than yet another ask
OPTIONAL POETRY 
It seems as if you breathed this poem out effortlessly. Lovely.
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Loved it. Love your way with words here.
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Thanks!
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Breathtaking writing here.
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Thank you!
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I love the lines – “sharp air forcing awe from my ungrateful lungs”. Really makes you feel like you are there breathing cold mountain air.
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Thanks, Claire! There’s nothing like serious elevation gain to make the lungs ungrateful… 🙂
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Too true! And yet, it is that burning in your chest that let’s you know you accomplished something difficult.
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wow cold nights yet clear i like it.
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Thanks!
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