First hunting trip in years
Wondering if I have the stamina,
The fortitude to stay in a cabin,
To hunt in the cold,
To find my way in unknown woods...
To use an outhouse.
I have grown accustomed to amenities:
A steady furnace, heated water,
Television, books, phone,
Internet, WiFi, Cable,
A garage,
You.
For a weekend
I decided to try myself,
To test resolve,
To see if there might still remain
A little hardiness.
The long drive took us out of range
Of television,
Most radio,
Cell coverage,
Running tap water,
Toilets with flush handles,
My bidet.
Gas light, wood fire
Illuminated and warmed
Dimly, slowly.
My bed frosted until midnight.
At 1:00 my bladder sent the signal;
I arose, donned boots and coat,
Forayed to the shack outback.
Wind rushing in the tall trees,
Snow crunching beneath me,
Ice on the door,
Dark of night,
Dread without,
Within.
In minutes, business done.
Outside, breeze soughing,
Sighing in tree tops.
Singing ice stopped me
Beneath the stars:
Siren song of resonating ice,
Ice-glazed lake's expansive song
Filling me with wonder.
Cold, I could not linger,
Walked back
To hunker in blankets,
Old and wool,
As the ice-song lingered.