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Ode to my Hammock
Spencer Willits
O hammock of mine
-Taut and twisted banana peel-
You cradle my heavy bones
And creaking branches.
You bury me in your fabric fold
When the cold,
Uncompromising ground
Merely tolerates me,
Makes me sleep in the nylon doghouse
-The tent-
Jabbing pine cones,
Stones, and roots in my back
And shrugs, uncaring, to my chiropractor
But you, hammock,
You rock me in a canvas crib
With the heartbeat of the breeze.
Carry me, hammock,
Hang my sweaty hide to dry
On the makeshift campsite clothesline
And put me on simmer
In the pot roast
Of the sleepy siesta sun
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