TO PACK A MULE

I know what it cost, the price in time
it took to learn to pack a mule—
diamond or box hitch, how I envied

the tight cover of canvas matties tucked
beneath low loads on a string of sleek,
quick-stepping animals headed up

switchbacks cut in granite scree,
passes to lakeside meadows,
rainbow trout and starlit nights

as rusty bucket smears leaking
light from another, outside world
that envelops us all. Remember when

we lay naked chasing shade around
the puzzled trunk of a sugar pine,
our Roaring River honeymoon

where the was no phone or clock?
I know what it cost in time
to have everything we needed.