the poetry is all in the anticipation

the poetry is all in the anticipation
there is nothing there in reality

the sun in Nevada is up early
an hour before the others
as if ready to defy Mark Twain

the poetry is here
inside the Great Basin bristlecone pines
an island of 3000 year old groves
surrounded by a sagebrush sea of desert harshness

you chase the sunrise east
past the frozen Comin Lake and pinon juniper
up the Egan mountain range and the Humboldt forest

but when you cross the park sign
the parking lot is empty
the center is pad locked
the road is gated shut

National Park closed due to emergency weather conditions
with only a dust of snow on the ground

funding for the national park has never been more tight
the Yellowstone brochure had read
that’s why we set up Yellowstone Forever

or Grand Teton Foundation
or Friends of the Bridger-Teton
or the Great Basin Foundation
all across America

and yet, the Great Basin gate is still closed
the western southern and eastern Yellowstone entrances are still closed
Old Faithful, Morning Glory, the Yellowstone Grand Canyon
millions of years of ecology
closed to the entire world

Mark Twain was right
the poetry is all in the anticipation
there is nothing there in reality