Fields widen out to prairie,
prairie spreads to open plains,
the Front Range starts up as a bank of clouds
and slowly builds its wall of stone.
The shack’s one room is wallpapered
with pages of the Denver Post
a decorative soul
glued up in 1939.
We slept there forty years ago,
a passing symmetry
I try to keep in focus
like a pale moon drooping from a limb.
The limb, the mule deer, and the Steller’s jay,
which, rummaging through scrub, has stopped to preen,
compose themselves like type that carries news
still read by lanterns fueled by kerosene.
Dan Campion is the author of Peter De Vries and Surrealism and coeditor of Walt Whitman: The Measure of His Song. His poems have appeared in many periodicals. Two selections of his poems, A Playbill for Sunset (Ice Cube Press) and The Mirror Test (MadHat Press) are being published in 2022. He lives in Iowa City, Iowa.Discover more from Dan Campion.