Scrawled on a Yosemite Park Map
To the couple from the orange tent
whose amorous shushes
crept around the campground
long into the night like a bear
looking for leftovers,
I’m sorry if my kids
happened to slam the car doors
a few too many times
on our way out to an early morning
Ranger-led flora and fauna walk.
Staring at a lineup of RVs
crammed with wildlife-gawking
selfie-stick swinging day-trippers,
he said: the valley
had become a petting zoo.
Better head for the high country
if you’re looking for something wild.
So we did, and found more people and cars
but also endless pine, something blue
called sky, and mountains rising up
with a shrug that said: if not wild
then closer. Maybe it was the thin air,
or not showering for five days,
but I’d recommend the ice-clear lake
I dove into, for once not wondering
how much time was left on the clock.