I’m trying to set up this tent in
the dark.  
          Not city dark, 
          Not country dark,  
          Wilderness Dark.

I’m trying 
          to line these wiggling 
          poles up with the tent seams.
I’m trying 
          to hold this flashlight between
          my cheek and shoulder.
I’m trying 
          to get this impossible 
          rain tarp in place.

I’m trying to be happy and patient.

I’ve     tied     my children     to     trees.
          They’re calling me 
          to untie them
          so they can help.  

I’m trying to do this myself, and I will.

It’s a good thing I tied them 
          Up Tight 
so if they fall asleep they
          Won’t 
                    Fall 
   			  Over.  

I’m trying to 
           drive these anchors into rocks,
           or some close stony relatives
           and ignore the name Rex just called Syd.

I’m trying to fling our food
          over this branch, fifteen feet
          above our heads so the bears
          don’t eat Kate for breakfast.

I’m trying to set up this camp 
          so I can untie my children 
          and lead them straight  
          to the tent and zip them in. 

I’m trying to
          put the sleeping bags on places without roots or rocks
          and I’ve done so for everyone but me.

We sleep.  They sleep.  I try.

I awake.  
My children are outside, unroped, in the light.  
Something big is going on.  
I try to listen.  I cannot hear words. 
     Hushed tones of astonishment,
     admiration.  A large splash.
     Whoops and hollers.

I try to figure out 
why the ranger didn’t tell me 
there was a drop


                              off, 60 feet, 
                              into the lake 
                              on the border 
                              of my campsite.  

I try to figure out 
           how I set up the tent
          five feet from the edge 
          and didn’t fall in.  

I try not to think of how
I     tied     my three children     to     trees
On 
the 
edge
      

       of a cliff.