I awake with cloudy eyes
on unfamiliar limbs
as if walking for the first time,
as if walking forever
down the stairs to river
then upward to become the other
blue peak beneath our quilt.
Each a snow capped prominence.
Each with it’s own lofty view of the world

while the wind howls between.

Into that echoing emptiness
a dog leaps.

Blessed nestling reminder
that even mountains
can turn and touch.