Deep Creek

River running frantic where we cross the rock shelf
Serene stone slabs amid white water rushing
September sun dropping slowly behind a stand of spruce
Sliver of white moon rising in a mist of chill rain
Stopping midway, we sit on a flat slab of stone, listening
Black water gurgle and splash, tumbling down the gorge
Black granite, wet and slick with moss along the water's edge
Taking your hand and climbing up the gray stone
Walking up the steep bank among myrtle and beech leaves

Your sudden laugh bounces between rock gorge walls
Startled squirrel chattering unseen in the dark green above us
Gray lichen carpeting a fallen hemlock with vegetable fur
Brown boots sinking into mud, finding footholds between roots
Reaching a logging road, grassy ruts just visible in the twilight
The road is vague and hazy in the cold drizzle of rain
Rhythmic squish as we walk, wet socks inside soaked boots
Turning uphill into the red clay road toward home
Yellow porch light a beacon through the branches of dark trees
Wind blustering high above in swaying spruce boughs

Up wooden steps, stomping our soles on dry pine planks
Unlacing boots, stripping drenched socks away
Stepping inside the cedar cabin, a warm fire still in the hearth
Wringing water, peeling out of wet denim and flannel
Standing and shivering, bodies painted by fluttering firelight
Rubbing your cold feet between my hands, kissing toes
Smiling mouth merges into smiling mouth
Hands along hips and fingers through damp hair
Black night and a storm gusting hard against the windows.