By Gala
Date: 1 November 2000
Autumn Ridge
My toes felt it first---
cool air in the loft
and though one leg was snuggly hooked
around your ankle,
and I was warm against your chest,
a simple matter of drawing back my foot---
I could see the deep fog
settling in the hollow
and I nudge you awake,
kiss your sleepy smile,
and whisper my request.
You groan---just a little,
haul yourself up
and say
The things I do for you, woman,
all the while smiling
an invitation that speaks volumes
of hauling me back beneath the covers
for a different sort of dawn observation.
I jump up,
grab for socks, shirt, jeans---
pull a brush through my hair
and catch you watching---
and yes, I blush.
Your eyes are warm on me,
and your eyes suggest
that it's not too late
for that morning salute.
Oh---but I want to be with you
when the rising mist swirls
feel the moisture on my face
and watch the world emerge
as the spirit world gives us another day.
Leaves underfoot,
the sweet dry tang of autumn
and the distant hills a half forgotten dream
until the Smokies release them.
And when the day has won again,
yes...I will return to our small warm place with you
and with the kiss of the sun
streaming in the window
will stand before the fireplace,
stir the embers
add a morning log
and take off the clothes again
while watching your eyes,
and drinking in the wonder in them,
and wait for you to touch me
taste me
take me as yours
on this Smokie Mountain morning.
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