The tent was filled with the scents of sweat, smoke, and bug spray
And the daddy long legs wrestled with each other outside.
The daytime air was hot and sticky,
And my tank top clung to my skin.
Tons of trees lined the back of our campsite.
Maple, ash, hawthorn
The branches tore at my skin and by the time the crickets came out,
My bare arms were covered in small scratches.
A short drive took us to the town
Where Jordan and could eat grilled cheese sandwiches.
It was a beautiful town, always full of life
Spotted Joe-Pye weed, yellow swallowtails, seagulls
And countless smiling people walking to and fro.
When we left the town we always returned to our campsite,
Where we sat by the fire
And I tried to count the stars.
The nighttime air made me shiver and the tanktop was not enough.
Even wrapped up in the tent in a blanket,
I huddled into a ball.
I always woke up wet and sticky
In the morning when the sun was out again.
Never have I ever felt so happy or free.
Kelleys Island, Ohio
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem