a bower for Alex
lined with alpaca
and table saw shavings
overlaid with fine mosquito-proof screen
arched across ultralight trekking poles
inside: a Will Shortz NYT Sunday crossword (blank)
and Dixon Ticonderoga #2 (sharp, with sharpener)
an Agatha Christie you’ve forgotten
and a phone with earbuds and economics podcasts
(esp. Freakanomics
esp. Marketplace
and anything Nate Silver)
leading to the door:
alternating chilled pint glasses
(the sweat beading up and rolling down their straight substantial sides
masking the flat amber of the 90 Shilling inside)
and rich brown drip coffee with real milk to take the edge off
what else?
some Trails Illustrated maps
Greg Brown on a radio
and a stone the blue of northern ice
under a clear night sky
at the foot of a snow-dusted mountain
by a tender talking stream
