the camping trip

How is it that you can be whole again?

Well, you will just have to learn that for yourself.

something about the journey

trudging a third of a mile

through the forest, to the lake

clear as glass

with all your necessaries

for three days

towed in the aluminum canoe

in your hand and his

makes you wonder

if it is all worth it –

sweat beading at your temples

arms aching, stigmata blister

forming

on your palm

something about setting up

your little dwelling,

knowing it is

temporary, yet getting it

just right and in place and safe

so that after the work is done

you can lie on the sun-warmed rock

at water’s edge

with the book you haven’t opened

and spot the kingfisher

and the magnificent osprey,

heavy with fish, pulled low near

water’s surface and flying

down the center of the lake to

the tall, dead tree at the point

where it will lift, up, up, up

with weighted feast to enjoy

at the end of the strenuous flight

something about the wilderness preserve

with no motors, no visible people,

the bears from whom you hoist your food

and little cook stoves for boiling water

and clear, cold lake in which to swim

breathing the pine needle air

and taking in the sky above

and soft forest earth below

braves you, after three days, and

you are refreshed and replenished

and even with a little hole in your heart

that may never go away,

you are and will always be

whole.

Copyright © 2012 Nan P.


[This was written for We Write Poems. We were asked to : "write a poem without our shoes and socks, a study in bare feet... to find a favorite spot, maybe one that evokes deep memory or inspires imagination, then take off your shoes and socks and be reminded… of what?"  This will also be posted over at Poets United, when the next Poetry Pantry goes live.]