Campfires curl

Clouds twirl,

Rippled lakes paddle

Branched pines waddle,

And all is good.

It is simply so.

 

Smoke crackles then climbs

Boaters bear oars,

Squirrels twitter and rhyme

Memories are moored,

And I hear laughter barked below.

It’s time for me to go.

 

May 28, 2017

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