Idaho

Thin time in the city,
better in the woods.

Split bark pine, brush
of tart ripe berries.

How we drift back
to our desks, or cars.

This is not us. We do
not speak to a sign

and order lunch
by numbers. Do we?

Take the chance
of leaving to discover

the lead cold run
of clear trout water

The balding granite,
speckled with crease

and cave. This is bear
country, fields of wolf

and mice. Bring back
the last true men,

let them roam
and know the land.