October 20–26 ❘ Hiding Place

Hiding Place

I see your pavilion’s faint outline
pitched in open field,
banners flicking and flashing
in the sun, hitched horses at ease,
the camp milling about
on important errands.

I try to move forward,
but the ground gives way
and I find myself slogging
through a nightmare mire,
never progressing toward
a goal I can’t quite remember.

When I call for help,
the quartermaster perks up
and turns—but where are you?
Your tent flaps never part.
I cannot see you, though I know
you are somewhere.

Maybe you are hiding in wind and sun,
or in concerned eyes of camp followers.
Maybe you have descended below,
beneath the mud, and only wait
to receive my feet.

• Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry

• Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com