Looking across the way,

a sleepy two-lane mountain main street,

to the gas station-gone-corporate-pharmacy,

high clouds pinking in sunrise glow down

on four peaks, none yet dusted with snow.

One of the girls working behind the coffee shop counter

speaks of monks and warlocks,

mysterious doorways, to the other.

I glimpse over at the red traffic light,

a rainbow dashes straight into the sky.

Town wakes from swishing maple to diesel 4×4 truck.