Pockets Of Detail, Unsurrounded,
(A Bear Circled Our Camp All Night)
Rain filtered through rock
re-emerging from rock,
with trees dwarfed, splayed—
a stumble, then, and a twisting
thought, ‘as the body may be said
to think.’ Singing all night
off-key, to calm my horse,
other horse tangled up in a picket rope
—she always does that, silly girl—
for a mountain can take you
out of yourself, or in.
Remember that day,
the three of us going single-file
as we turned along the shelf-trail,
joined by a fourth—a bighorn ram
trailing us out of his territory,
like an usher seeing
unruly guests to the door.
Pseudo-narcissus, narcissus, they grow
so close together above the trail.