"Daydreaming On The Trail" is the title of this poem.
"A lonely stretch, in the bind of poor fishing and drought.
Following the ocean, crossing pass after pass,
fields of wild reeds.
I've come this far alone.
Dozing in the pale sun, on the sand of a
dried up river bed, back and shoulder chilled,
something bothering me.
I think at that last quartzite pass,
I left the oak gate in the fence of the cow pasture
open, probably because I was hurrying, a white gate.
Did I leave it as I found it or not?
Light cool sky, the mistletoe on a chestnut
floats in vision, many layered clouds of upriver,
cool lattice of sunlight.
Some unknown big bird calling faintly, crork, crork."