Blue Mountains, Late
The valley fills with the colour it is named for, slowly, the way a jug fills from the bottom up.
A single car climbs the ridge road, its headlights making brief promises to the trees and taking them back.
Somewhere below, a dog decides the day is over and says so twice.
I have lived here long enough to know the difference between quiet and the sound of nobody coming.
Written on the back step, mid-winter.