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Reaching back to 1976, this was written on a Cal Hiking Club (UC Berkeley) trip into the Mokelumne Wilderness, following a series of now long-dead remote wilderness Gold Rush ghost towns. In every case, there is no more 'town' left; one has to be some sort of archeologist to even find what passes for ruins and remains of these old 1849 gold camps.
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Somewhere in my sleep
Tapping,
bumping gently,
outside on the slope
ghostly images
shine in the moonlight.
I wake to hear
the snowflakes beat
upon my 5 AM tent fly,
whispering urgently
soto vocce
of the morning
coming down
the mountain amidst
arboreal spectres.
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(1976, Mokelumne Wilderness, Sierra Nevada Range)
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