CATalina mountains

Dim and drowsy, hesitant, hazy,
draped in grayish gauze,
they bide their time,
gently dozing all morning
until day’s blaze drives us in from the glare.
Now they sidle closer, slipping
from under their dusty veils,
stalking wide-eyed on silent paws.
Suddenly, we find ourselves nose to nose,
the demure now bold, unblinking,
showing their true colors, daring,
distinct in every shadow,
every sharp and rugged edge.
Our captured glance, like fascinated prey,
is pinned in plays of sunset and shadow
until darkness falls
and once again they creep away.

 

Shared on OLN#211|dVerse

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