Secluded Campfire Poem by GORDON GILHULY

secluded campfire:
he watches as the cold and
the smoke shape the air

the grass bent back as
though holding her memory:
remembering steps

the inkening sky,
the night wind up from the sea
looking for someone

he reaches out his
arms like one just newly blind:
only emptiness

his hands the texture
of old weather - he wears his
shirt of aloneness -

suddenly, a slice
of moon; wild geese engrave the
silvered night sky