A Little Box of Summer Camp

Eighteen years passed,

friendships long gone.

All that remains is this box

clasped in my hands,

with tiny fragments of memory.

What once was my dream,

I made reality,

now a distant recollection.

***

Singing by the campfire,

learning to make S’mores

by its warmth.

Town runs to the laundromat,

before excursions

in the moonlight hours.

Laundry lost after one too many.

Embarrassed faces

appearing at dawn.

***

Bouncing off the blob

into the cool caress

of Blue Lake beauty.

Waking in the dark,

tears in the bunk.

Late-night walks,

guiding sleepy campers to the nurse.

***

Wandering Walmart aisles

in search of more supplies,

laughter sparkling in the fluorescence.

Blizzards at Dairy Queen,

on homesick nights.

***

Drinks at Otto’s,

dancing on tables

to the guitar’s strum.

Slowly finding my place,

finally feeling like I belong.

***

Now and again,

it feels like a dream;

these snippets gathered

keep the memories alive.