Highlands halfway cafe -

Rain and storm, mist-charm and cloud,

dusk and dawn, owl and barn.

Horizon lines remind of here

and there like a rainbow’s ‘and’ -

and is for breakfast at ‘The Golden Egg',
Highlands, halfway up or halfway down, where

on the wall a snow hare lives, and what remains

the wind snares in;  tumbleweed, jasmine, thistle 
and ivy trails around her crown
wave here at least, where ice terrain may stay.

Outside, glaciers have melted up-shining fossils

in baked snow sheen. One-day tourists

cluck at the kiosk hatch, flexing a clutch

of hot chocolate cash, too early

for ice cream Sundays. Every day,

stretch runner hikers reach for summits

marked on health insurance policies, tax returns, 
2 for 1 vouchers in waterproof wallets,

passing face-down remains of climbers 
as altitude pins on app markers; but from here, 
at The Golden Egg, breakfasts are divine. Heavenly

is… cracking scrambled eggs

in all kinds of weather, even

as the meadow mead below

is littered with broken bottles,

haiku shells and feathers.