I crawl out of my sleeping bag

at Geyser Pass high in the La Sals

just before sunrise to walk out into

the meadow and look across at

Mellenthin Mountain, dark and gray,

but with a tinge of light near its

summit, and as the sun rises,

the mountain’s north face turns

into a fancy’s show box with

the slightest color of pink

taking over from the summit

downwards, but as the pink

spreads lower, a reddish tinge

diffuses across the granite slopes,

and a golden glow envelopes all

until the mountain becomes its

dark-gray self with just a touch

of dancing wispy crests of snow.