A black-capped chickadee
on a feeder in southeast Iowa
flies all the way to Livingston.
Montana is within his normal range.
Winter is coming on.
You will have to consider
a new campsite. Close
the windows of your car.
Find room on the map.
Edge to the west and the north.
You are a member
of the subspecies move.
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john mann poems 
This one seems grounded, though we don’t know much about the speaker. A guy is in his car and is camping. Is he homeless, on the lam from the law? Looking for work? Drifting aimlessly after a bad relationship? Or is this all a metaphor for life–life as a serial camping experience? I’d say that’s fair enough and works for me.