Milk Run

Poetry
 
 Ejected from sleep  
 by the klaxon alarm
 I tumble out of bed
 fumble with layers of clothes
 
 slumping against the counter
 willing the coffee to brew faster
 
Clamber out the door
 
We ride in silence 
into the approaching dawn
nursing steaming mugs
driving a little faster
to make the milk run
 
The chalet is bright and full of noise
we stuff feet into plastic boots
file outside 
 
Stand in the biting cold
our breath clinging to red coats
impatiently kicking at the snow
waiting for the lift to turn
 
Rising with the sun
as it reaches out to touch 
the walls of the notch and Mansfield’s nose beyond
 
First tracks 
a moment of silence 
before the mountain opens