Wind rustling through the trees,
A bird in flight gives a high-pitched shriek.
Chopping wood on this sharp cold day,
Near a very strong smell of fertilized hay.
At first we could talk only certain times of the day.
But now we can talk almost every which way.
Laughter rings out from the front porch,
That glows from the light of a kerosene torch.
Five girls and six guys,
Means there are eleven K-Bar knives.
First expedition is already done.
I can’t wait for the very next one.
Getting ready for the more challenging next,
On this one we’ll rappel off a steep wooded crest.
It’s something I’ve never done in the past,
So let’s see how long I’ll really last.
Reading Lonigan by Louis L’Amour,
My mind turns to a craving for s’mores.
Because it is now pitch black and night,
I think I might go to bed, I might.