Moon Over Under Canvas

Despite everything, some folks are glamping,
Living out long-term reservations
Made for vacations in luxury tents.

No police or protesters around here,
Only one underpaid, desultory
Park ranger floating by on dawn patrol,

Checking for scofflaws who camped overnight
In the places that don’t cost anything.
Coast up to a lookout and park. It’s yours,

All yours in the moments between others,
A slightly misshapen moon settling
Over the ponderosa terraces,

The blue haze of the mesas like slate steps
Down to the scattered lights in the desert,
Edge of eras, of conflicts, of sunrise.