the trail wound around
into a glade of head-high spruces
calm and thriving
in the lee of a mountain-cleft
and on this crisp afternoon
their evergreen branches
were evenly, tastefully decorated
as if by careful intention
with fiery sugar maple leaves
blown upslope in last night’s squalls
now caught and dangling
from needled limbs
looking for all the world
like a premature Christmas display
hauled out too soon after Halloween
and who among us has not urgently
wished to present as somehow
more brilliant than we know ourselves
to be, just this once, as the sun slants in
to highlight our most striking features
and we are rakishly dressed
posing proud in the sparkling air
and the valley view falling
away at our feet
is breathtaking, simply
breathtaking
–
Robbie Gamble is the author of A Can of Pinto Beans (Lily Poetry Review Press, 2022). His poems have appeared in the Atlanta Review, Carve, Lunch Ticket, RHINO, and The Sun. He divides his time between Boston and Vermont.