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I went out
only once with my bow last year
high into the scattered snow mountains above Vallecitos and
did not get a deer but caught the before sunrise chill on my face
felt my weight break the still-frozen snow beneath my feet
looked back to see my prints just visible in the coming light
smelled a cool wetness of clear springs trickling in the dark
saw the outlines of tall ponderosa pine with ice-bent branches
quietly rustling in the wind's soft breathing as I climbed
still higher
stopped to catch my breath and heard two far-off crows caw
for the coming sun and was audience to coyotes barking
back and forth between unseen canyons
watched the blue-grey sky lighten and silent stars fade
felt cold Winter breezes numb my face while I sat shivering
on a rocky ledge overlooking a dim and hazy horizon
blew warm breath into my cupped hands and looked and listened
attentive, while the sun now rising
cast patches of red and yellow light on distant blue mountains
walked as quietly as I could through dry scrub oak thickets
looking for fresh tracks and droppings in the calm splendor of dawn
began to feel that warm glow run all through me
stopped and prayed, whispering gratitude for that one hunter's morning
held in memory
