January 5, 2021
The Long Pause
By Amba Gale
Three-layered bank of fog.
Hills, mountains, Cascades
hover on the Sound,
a soft, stealthy cat guarding its treasure,
halfway between our shore and the sand spit.
how just every now and then,
the wind mists move ever so slightly,
allowing – no, supporting—
the surprised and astonished pines
that peek out
between the long pause,
to say “Good morning!” to the day,
to say, “Welcome!” to this New Year.