It Was Cold Among the Trees

when I walked around

the hunk of dead metal

to see what was what

one headlight smashed apart

its eye-cup cupping rusty

water in its bowl

the other gone an empty socket

windshield covered over with a tarp

front bumper

twisted in the leaves

a dent deep up the nose

like a tree fell on it

tires gone wheels flaky brown

the whole thing up on blocks

without any tires

but otherwise

intact

I sniffed in at

the side door crack

at the moldering guts

a dozen years of rot

had left inside

then slid my fingers

in and wrenched

the side doors open

the damp

of how many

thousand days

and nights

had made

a home inside

the bus

for all of nature

a sea of crushed

and gutted acorns

the remains of

a million meals

the bathroom

for whatever

ate them

was there too

a mound

of poop the size

of walnuts

from I don’t

know what kind

of furry animal

I shooed a pair

of mourning doves

out of the ceiling space

(mourning what?

no mother being here?)

and when I did

found little silver stars

of no real constellation

painted up there

the gone front windshield

was replaced inside by plastic sheets

taped hard in place

and good enough to stay

the rear window was

rusted shut

but that was some security

the curtains were

knotted and rotten

and the wood that made

the table and bed

was a kind of

slimy pressboard

gone bad in the rain

it folded like paper

so I tore it out

and dragged it to the heap

after a tough three hours

and the downing of the sun

I had nicked knuckles

scraped wrists and arms

plus an empty

shell of a camper van

that needed to be scoured clean

a worn-down broom

proved to be best

its bristles short and hard

I used it to brush

and scrape

the cobwebs from

the inside walls

then sweep

the dust straight out

which some of it

blew back on me

idiot

that I am I didn’t think

to wrap a towel

on my face until

an hour into it

who knows what kind of

acid poison was already

eating my tea bag lungs

the doors were uneven

and wouldn’t close

because of a deep dent

which no hammering

could undent

but I dragged a length

of wire from the heap

and made a loop

to loop around one door

and tied it to the other

and wound it tight

into a knot

so the doors nearly closed

then padlocked them

and knotted some wire

outside so I could use

the lock there too

it was decent enough

to keep the lions

and tigers and bears out

while I was in there

and everyone else out

when I wasn’t

by flashlight

I razor-scraped the scum

off the side windows

and buffed them

with spritzer and the towel

from my face

then laid a plastic tarp

on the floor and duct-taped

it to the walls

as high as it could go

and hoisted down

my box spring

and a slew of pillows

from my room

and found a lamp

in the yard

and ran a cord

of cords out from the house

to plug it in

and there was light

then I had to tumble

the big trash heap over

to get at the coffee table

that was under it

which I needed for

a kind of nightstand

I took a leg for it from

a backless kitchen chair

and washed it all and sanded it

by hand

and set the table next

to the pillow end

of the bed

I was building

I was building

I realized when

I was nearly done

I was building

a fallout shelter

the opposite

of the open woods

a six-walled closed-up

space for me

and just for

me

lying there

and looking up

at the ceiling stars

I felt a tingle

of something far away

and gone

and realized that no

single part of me

did not hurt

or slightly bleed

I was spent

of nearly

everything

and only realized then

that I’d been

out there

all night long

so long

in fact it must

be near

morning

I looked up

through the ceiling

of branches

at the still-black sky

and wondered what

time it was

when

just as I breathed in

I heard them