our tent was a ship
pitching and tossing
as he clung to the entrance poles
snuffled and sang
of the fish he'd caught
of his longing for cookies wieners
plastic-wrapped hamburgers
anything we might have for him
impatient
he went down on all fours
snuffed his way round
the untethered base of our tent
grunted as he tripped on a guy rope
you see I was on my left side
facing out when he stopped
his nose was two inches from my nose
we might have been lovers
poised to kiss only a scrap
of as yet unblooded cotton
lay between us and consummation
I was saved only when
the door of a nearby car opened
and he paused stood up
shambled away his tread
waking night scents
of pine trees and moss my breath
still in his body as his was in mine
all the next day
on our long journey over the Sierra
his memory stayed in my mouth berried
musky with a trace of fish I kept looking back
till we reached the Pacific
turned one last time
wanting to share this moment with him
tell him about whales and bald eagles
ask the best way to catch salmon
love in a South Dakota forest by Caroline Carver|Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser
$20.00Price
