Cabin Company

They're a kind of company—im-
personal but not un-
interesting: the deep cold,
the dark, the violence of the wind's
percussive and atonal sym-
phonics, the cloud-mass dim-
lit from behind by the moon.

An America wild still!
Not peopled. Not paved from here
to the Pacific. Or not yet…
Even so, sometimes I wish…
But who would I not do ill
to wish this on—a hill,
a wild night, an old Lear?











By permission of the author.
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