Jenn Gutierrez C A M P I N G at O L E J T O W A S H We woke to rain, a light sprinkling of rhythm and pattern against tarp. The cadence of the San Juan, harnessed with silt rising. First there was the wind. It blew her adrift, like those many piles of wood we floated past—abandoned. Here it is a constant fight for sunlight, a play of eddies, and sand—red sand, the colored mask of a forgotten cheek. How this sense of time and place lends itself to a permissive halt, as though it too is searching for the you and I immersed so long ago. Lost wisdom of fire ignited the old-fashioned way, and then there is the evening— the way the canyon cradles the moon and Venus stands helplessly at guard. I feel her crying within stone walls and taste her seeping up through the hollows of sediment buried. Picturing hair the color of night, and eyes the reflection of rushing. Something like my own ebony eyelash dislodged and falling to the earth. Descending, I am washed free—but lost in a kind of human hollowness of distance fighting against the warmth of your body spooning my own. BIO Jenn Gutiérrez holds a B.A. in English and an M.F.A in English and Writing. She currently teaches Composition and Diversity Education at Pikes Peak Community College and the University of Denver respectively. Her 2002 debut collection of poems titled Weightless is available online through most book outlets including Amazon and Barnes and Noble. http://jenngutierr.blogspot.com/