the pole arrived today, weeks
after the season is over. i shake
the box and sense somewhere between the
crinkled edges that there will
be no more camping for months —
maybe years. but i have this spare
pole now to replace the one that
rotted in our hands near devil's lake,
do you remember?
there were always devils between us.
like that first time you shook your
tent in front of me and
all those old leaves came
tumbling out
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1 comment:
I am camping all winter in my basement where old guitars and microphones become moons over lakes. I intend to ride into spring on a new album. you are welcome to camp with your guitar.
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