Oh Beloved, I'm so glad you came on this trip!
I didn't think I'd packed you in with the sleeping bag and stove,
hidden among the woolen socks and bourbon.
But there you were!
In tree starlight silhouettes,
in the so deep a canyon,
in the so slow a moon rise,
in the steam.
I heard your bass harmony under our singing voices,
your parental chuckling at our philosophical, leisurati pontification.
I tried to catch your (the moon's) reflection on the hot water's surface,
wiggling my fingers in enraptured joy.
But you only split into a thousand pieces
and laughed in the cold river surging by.
I would spend but all of my life loving you,
so please keep on stowing away!
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