Poem: Getting Out

The nuts and bolts of breaking a late-season elk camp.

Getting Out Breaking camp in Big Sky Hunters all gone, the last trucked out at dawn Bucking it out against the coming storm Packing, rigging, loading, to pack it yet again down-trail, at the creek Nine miles to where trucks wait, silent, oil thick as tar, cattle racks and trailers frozen in No time for reflection on the turning of another season Shots missed, things seen, gear and outfits broken against the teeth of cold Sometimes spirits too The dreams of those who come for what’s not here Looking for adventure, missing it before their eyes Time now only to collect and carry Strapping down, frozen fingers counting, checking lists, leaving cans of beans and coffee in unlocked, unchained cabins The law for the lost Four riders load and lead eight horses, packed slipping, scrabbling out and down Curses, laughter, times forgotten, broken lead-shanks, patching, looking back, saying goodbye The mountains say nothing nor need to Centuries of hunters, prospectors, loggers too have come and gone A needlepoint of light against the sun of Mountain Time

This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection BROKEN PIECES available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats.