Caveman Christmas Card

Crushed granite and polished boulders,
twisted stunted fir trees poking up through cracks in almost solid stone,
a patch of ground passed unnoticed on the nightly commute,
landscape almost unchanged since the last great glacier receded,
unmarked by the rise and fall of civilization,
stoically unmoved by human joy or tragedy,
aloof and unbending and perfect.
Tonight under the halo encircled yellowbrown half moon,
half hidden in the drifting smoke,
frost crystallizing in the sparse soil,
a millennia of unspoken history hanging in the breeze,
I saw it for the first time.

Woodsmoke,
sinew and cured hides,
burning fat,
freshcut cedar,
flaked stone and polished antler,
unknown demons beyond the firelight,
eyes in the darkness.

A good hump,
a full belly,
a warm place to sleep.

Blood in the snow.