Rain through the night

and blackening ponderosa bodies rise

in thick, wet sky.

Their darking green, needle plumes and pompons,

shake dripping day.

Lately, a mystery cat laps within the boundaries,

hunting, romping, eating,

skittering away–just enough– at my voice,

her cream color like the stones,

her eyes wide and assessing.

Ice approaches after today’s relative warmth.

What’s already out there is here,

pattern of time a rounding, reason-breaking

all-at-once.

We are all there,

now.

What will be,

is.