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 old friends in two old chairs
Finding 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