Site icon A Hundred Falling Veils

A Small Bouquet of Poems Written While Camping

 

 

 

camping at the edge

of the river, all night

I dream of thirst

 

*

 

asking a question

I don’t want answered—

earwigs under the tarp

 

*

 

waking to rain

on the tent—

no rainbows at 2 a.m.

 

*

 

give me a day

not measured in hours—

splash, spoke, step, flame, song

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