picture a window wide enough
south-facing and high
sunrise behind the Chugach Range
sunset behind Mt. Augustine
rise and decline measured by familiar geographies

sometimes so specific you can name the day
remember February 21 when the sun set
like a dragon on fire
behind the rugged contour
of our sleeping volcano?

365 days such a marvel will return again
we will have tea out of your grandmother’s china
pistachios by the brass spoonful
conversation sure as a flood
and the scudding of ice above the mud flats

intrepid sun of late winter
a pale slice of melon sliding soundlessly
bright halo to Brother Augustine
(mark this spot!)
the glow reflected on our faces