The Cabin

We trekked in before the storm
Packs heavy but old familiar weights
In search of quiet
Up the arroyo
over the saddle back
into the valley
The snow came fast thick
with silent steps
The cabin old when I was young
Grey and weathered
With field stone chimney
The door is never locked
Typical of the trust found around here
Polished floors walls of hundred year old pine
The hearth cold and yawning
logs and kindling waiting for the match
We set to loading wood waiting under the eves
Work tomorrow to pay back the pile
Debited for a roaring fire now and night long
Jack Danials under the sink
Jelly jars Jack beans and coffee
As the night wore towards day
Two new friends in two old chairs
Found easy common ground
In retelling past loves dreams and prayers
As the fire slowed to embers
Thanking God for the quiet peace of the silent snow




Poetry by josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 564 times
Written on 2011-01-06 at 02:59

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Rob Graber
A very nice read! Makes me want a fireside pipeful...

:-,?
2011-01-06


countryfog
Solitude, a friend, a fire, food and conversation. If this isn't Heaven, it should be.
2011-01-06


Nancy Sikora
A wonderful escape, a wonderful way to connect with another being on a deeper level.
2011-01-06



. . . a fresh coat of mink oil on my boots and I'm ready.
2011-01-06


NicholasG
I frequent just such a place, up in the mountains north of Quebec city. No electricity or running water. Just tons and miles and years of peace and quiet and the smell of a maple fire. No better way to recharge batteries.
Thanks for taking me there.
Nick
2011-01-06