HIGH CAMP DURING COVID YEAR TWO

 

 HIGH CAMP DURING COVID YEAR TWO

Off skis, inside and upstairs,

my old pine table, High Camp

cut from Goat Rocks Wilderness,

checking messages. What comes,

Winter Trees, a Williams poem

I don’t know. I’m having a coffee

found in my pack from last year,

mountain open, first day,

All the complicated details

of the attiring and

disattiring are completed,

from a friend sitting with Williams

in Tacoma. Keep sending these,

I tap into my phone, I’ve moved

from the Mothership where Snyder

sits open to Mountains and Rivers,

his voice coming from speakers

and hearing aids, parked back

in trees beside an old VW van.

You can’t make this stuff up.

May you remain unchanged, Gary.

You’re the sutra I hear at this table.

A protein bar. French kiss

from Mother Bear, her open

mouth delivering blueberries to yours.

Tonic and vaccine.

Jim Bodeen

17 December 2021