Ascending the northeastern ridge of Guyot, two men discovered post hole hoofprints through the snow, sluffed powder slipping away like leaden plumage or crushed limestone through a quarry’s flute. They followed heavy tracks for three hours, snowshoes holding their boots aloft between frozen ground and light. When they paused where wind cut drifts across the saddle of the hill’s arch-backed gap, exposed stone hid the passage of the mount like ash consumed within a river’s froth. Half a mile further on they began to find saddlery bits and various tack like downy feathers littering the trail, dark leather wet from scuffs of slush, then one man called out that he’d found crisp brass sleigh bells shining in late December sun.
Micah Daniel McCrotty lives in Knoxville Tennessee with his wife Katherine. His poetry has previously appeared in Louisiana Literature, Storm Cellar, Sycamore Review, and the James Dickey Review among others.