The Mountains

The smoke trickles into the air from the chimney
Inside the cabin is the smell of meat roasting and being marinated
The smell is the only comforting thing as I wait to eat
I dig my hands in my pocket
My fingers are freezing
I curl my knuckles 
The eerie white snow is falling off the mountains that hum
Where the Indians once saw spirits of animals 
The bear, the eagle, the fox, the buffalo...
Each animal was given thanks to for the meal and were respected for their spirits
As day fades to night, the sunset makes it's last peak over the horizon before settling inside the valley
The darkness sings from far beyond
An owl hoots a warning: "Get home. The predators are out."
The cold echoes the sounds of space
Stars dangle in the sky that is eerily quiet
The moon shines from overhead
The planet hangs in space
While I feel from the inside
I am on a great spaceship
Heading to a journey unknown
By some amazing calculation
Generation after generation has succeeded on this planet
I feel it in the darkness of my room
Behind the fades blinds
I know I am not alone

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