poetry & things

Camping in Petersburg

Camping just outside of town, two miles from work

a cannery job, twenty three years old

did it mostly for the adventure

okay, I needed the money too

a bus would go out fish camp road

every few hours

once in awhile I’d take a cab,

too tired to walk

if I missed the bus

my tent was pitched

not far from the water

a scenic spot

it was a hot day

by Alaska standards

getting toward evening

I was alone reading

curled up in my tent

just glad to have some free time

away from slinging salmon

suddenly I heard footsteps approaching

ahh, it was the cabbie who had given me a lift

a few times out to the campsite

only this time he came

with a knife,

an unfathomable meter

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