BREAKING CAMP Having spent a hard-earned sleep, you must break camp in the mountains At the break of day, pulling up your stakes and packing, Scattering your ashes, And burying everything human you can't carry. Lifting Your world now on your shoulders, you should turn To look back once At a place as welcoming to a later dead-tired stranger As it was to your eyes only the other evening, As the place you've never seen But must hope for at the end of a day's rough journey. You must head for another campsite, maybe no nearer Wherever you're going Than where you've already been, but deeply, starkly appealing Like a lost home: with water, the wind lying down On a stretch of level earth, And the makings of a fire to flicker against the night Which you, traveling light, can't bring along But must always search for. by David Waggoner