DARK MOUNTAIN MORNING

A chalkboard on the front porch of the general store
in the small Adirondack hamlet that our cabin
is loosely associated with had the forecast
written neatly above the morning’s coffee special
Blue-bird through Thursday it said
followed by a smiley face and the morning’s coffee special
Dark Mountain Morning and so it was
to our surprise after walking back across the footbridge
and following the quiet road a quarter-mile
to the cabin with our coffees and the kids
inhaling homemade blueberry muffins
that the clouds gathered and unrolled over the lake
a wide gray west-bound expanse of rain on the heels
of a wind ushering a 10-degree temperature drop
it was on us before we could grab the towels drying
on the line before we could turn the canoes over
and rescue tackle-boxes and rods and lifejackets
from the dock before we could close cabin windows
and keep the soaking mist off the curtains
comforter on our bed and linoleum floor in the kitchen

In a mad laughing rush though
we did flip the canoes
rescue tackle and close windows
using the somewhat damp towels
to sop-up the linoleum
we found dry warm clothes
chairs on the screened porch
and watched the storm wear itself out
while the kids gabbled like ducks outside
under the run-off from the roof

related post

• ABOUT
• FUGGEDDABOUDIT
• 1.6 MILES FROM LAGUARDIA
• DAY 360
• TOPOGRAPHY

Tagged as: Adirondack poem, fishingpoet, watching a rainstorm