Lo, in the morning I woke up and it was beautifil blue sunshine sky and I went out on my alpine yard and there it was, everything Japhy
said it was, hundred of miles of pure snow-covered rocks and virgin lakes
and high timber, and below, instead of the world, I saw
a sea of marshmallow clouds flat as a roof and extending
miles and miles in every direction, creaming all the valleys,
what they called low-level clouds, on my6600-foot pinnacle
it was all far below me.
I brewed coffee on the stove and came out and warmed my mist-drenched bones
in the hot sun of my little woodsteps.
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