THIS MORNING

Rushing toward the Autumn Equinox
The sun slants across a corner
Of Sulphur Mountain - a Doppler
Radome gleaming in this
First light of late summer…

Slabs of muted monochrome
Surround this one illuminated
Live-oak high meadow, sentinel
As the ridge plunges
Toward Rancho Canada Larga.

The light continues to bleed
Across the hills - the 
Magic Hour decimated:
The banality of the day
Fast becoming inevitable.

I survey the view to 
The North - recto verso
Foothills arrayed in sfumato:
Shades of grey, ever lighter 
The Topatopas still intransigent.

Their mystery intact for a few 
Moments more - stoic faces 
Unblemished by the sun:
A little while yet to enjoy
The rapture of the pre-dawn.