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# Staying Alive,  by David Wagoner
- URL: https://joshualore.com/inthemiddleway/staying-alive-by-david-wagoner-staying-alive-in/
- Published: 2016-11-10T21:59:32.000Z
- Updated: 2026-09-03T04:11:22.000Z
- Author: Joshua Lore
- Tags: Uncategorized, albert bierstadt, Bierstadt, Life, Nature, painting, Poem, poetry, Survival, Wagoner, Wild, #Migrated-1788408094757, #wp, #wp-post, #Import 2026-09-03 00:01

Staying alive in the woods is a matter of calming down  
At first and deciding whether to wait for rescue,  
Trusting to others,  
Or simply to start walking and walking in one direction  
Till you come out–or something happens to stop you.  
By far the safer choice  
Is to settle down where you are, and try to make a living  
Off the land, camping near water, away from shadows.  
Eat no white berries;  
Spit out all bitterness. Shooting at anything  
Means hiking further and further every day  
To hunt survivors;  
It may be best to learn what you have to learn without a gun,  
Not killing but watching birds and animals go  
In and out of shelter  
At will. Following their example, build for a whole season:  
Facing across the wind in your lean-to,  
You may feel wilder,  
But nothing, not even you, will have to stay in hiding.  
If you have no matches, a stick and a fire-bow  
Will keep you warmer,  
Or the crystal of your watch, filled with water, held up to the sun  
Will do the same in time. In case of snow  
Drifting toward winter,  
Don’t try to stay awake through the night, afraid of freezing–  
The bottom of your mind knows all about zero;  
It will turn you over  
And shake you till you waken. If you have trouble sleeping  
Even in the best of weather, jumping to follow  
With eyes strained to their corners  
The unidentifiable noises of the night and feeling  
Bears and packs of wolves nuzzling your elbow,  
Remember the trappers  
Who treated them indifferently and were left alone.  
If you hurt yourself, no one will comfort you  
Or take your temperature,  
So stumbling, wading, and climbing are as dangerous as flying.  
But if you decide, at last, you must break through  
In spite of all danger,  
Think of yourself by time and not by distance, counting  
Wherever you’re going by how long it takes you;  
No other measure  
Will bring you safe to nightfall. Follow no streams: they run  
Under the ground or fall into wilder country.  
Remember the stars  
And moss when your mind runs to circles. If it should rain  
Or the fog should roll the horizon in around you,  
Hold still for hours  
Or days if you must, or weeks, for seeing is believing  
In the wilderness. And if you find a pathway,  
Wheel-rut, or fence-wire,  
Retrace it left or right: someone knew where he was going  
Once upon a time, and you can follow  
Hopefully, somewhere,  
Just in case. There may even come, on some uncanny evening,  
A time when you’re warm and dry, well fed, not thirsty,  
Uninjured, without fear,  
When nothing, either good or bad, is happening.  
This is called staying alive. It’s temporary.  
What occurs after  
Is doubtful. You must always be ready for something to come bursting  
Through the far edge of a clearing, running toward you,  
Grinning from ear to ear  
And hoarse with welcome. Or something crossing and hovering  
Overhead, as light as air, like a break in the sky,  
Wondering what you are.  
Here you are face to face with the problem of recognition.  
Having no time to make smoke, too much to say,  
You should have a mirror  
With a tiny hole in the back for better aiming, for reflecting  
Whatever disaster you can think of, to show  
The way you suffer.  
These body signals have universal meaning: If you are lying  
Flat on your back with arms outstretched behind you,  
You say you require  
Emergency treatment; if you are standing erect and holding  
Arms horizontal, you mean you are not ready;  
If you hold them over  
Your head, you want to be picked up. Three of anything  
Is a sign of distress. Afterward, if you see  
No ropes, no ladders,  
No maps or messages falling, no searchlights or trails blazing,  
Then, chances are, you should be prepared to burrow  
Deep for a deep winter.

(image: The Domes of the Yosemite, by Albert Bierstadt)