Camping At Lake Berryessa Poem by Steven Federle

My children slept
on the thin vinyl floor
while above our tent,
just past the dark tree-line,
the Milky Way glimmered
like cool waves breaking
on the black coast
of the deep mountain sky.

All night
the lake whispered softly
under gentle western winds
as egret and owl
kept guardian eyes
on the sleeping
human shore.

While watching my sons sleep,
I heard the low murmur
of wild turkey and possum
scuffling through dry dust and leaves,
searching our campground for leftovers
peanut butter crusts, hot dogs and beans,
any careless, easy meal,

when I felt rolling pressure
pushing insistently at base of our tent,
and, alarmed, heard quick, powerful,
exploratory snorts.

Holding my breath,
I gazed into the deer’s
questioning,
fearless eyes,

and wondered
if we campers
were part of this
ancient community,

or welcomed,
honored guests,

or simply curious,
rude intruders.