On a Watch

By on Apr 2, 2013 in Poetry

Mountain scene with super-saturated color

The stream swells
snowmelt over blankets of pine needles
the remembered smells are here
embedded in the rough hewn boards’ cabins the
upswept mountain flowers strewn.

A doe and its fawn may pass
looking cautiously
between fallen branches and the new growth
you and I would walk these trails
summer becoming fall then winter.

Ice winds and the now scattered sun
you’d ask me your thought about questions
us in our heavy coats
I miss your gray one
and you. 


Peter Layton's poetry has appeared in Frontier, The Sheltered Poet, The 13th Warrior Review, The Plastic Tower, Wild Violet and Perspectives, among many, many others. He resides in Lakewood, California.