Camping Poem With Rain

We
campers
cloistered
in
our
tent

Virginia
needs
it
but
damn
if
it
isn’t
wet
and
hostile
all
around
and
we
five
not
touching
but
breaths
overlapping
concentric
circles
filling
our
nylon
cabin

Zina
is
hogging
the
guitar

Because
she
is
writing
I
let
her

You
must
grab
these
things
when
they
come
or
they
slip
away
fast
under
the
drone
of
drops
on
the
rain
fly
way
above
the
dry
dead
fly
tucked
in
the
corner
beside
my
Therma-rest

After
the
storm
passes
through
this
slice
of
world
expanse
will
refract
through
droplets
nature’s
new
lens
prescription

Then
no
more
inside
if
we
don’t
want
it
only
the
world
out
and
out

Enough
air
to
breathe
forever

---