Blue Sky Moment

Sunlight pierces the fog at 11 a.m.,

and patches of blue sky appear

above the brittle bare-branched trees -

an interruption midst 

the relentless gray  of December

in this mountain-encircled valley.

A heron graks,

then lifts off

the topmost branch

of Grandmother Cedar.

I watch his huge wings

rise and fall, rise and fall,

as I head toward the house,

(smoke spiraling from the chimney),

with another armload of wood

for the fire.

I wrap amber sunlight and trees

around me like a prayer shawl,

as I enter,

and count my beads

of gratitude.

For Kim's prompt at Verse First: Gifts and Blessings