Campsite Three Rockefeller Parkway

by Leonard M Hawkes

When first I slept
In you with her:
High-bush burned red,
Windy Autumn bit,
And the Snake
Trickled low
In September drought.

And now as you have
Become a common sight
Of summer weekly passage;
Yet, Ownership, your Song,
Perpetuates in-Soul,
An ever obsrved
Passing of the heart.

And inspite of wear--
Lopped lodgepoles,
Beavered banks,
Trails and trash,
Your youth endures intact--
Crystal moonlight
Caught in lost virginity.


Author's Note: 2002 memory of 1982

Posted on 04/22/2009
Copyright © 2021 Leonard M Hawkes

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/22/09 at 11:10 PM

This is good, effortlessly interesting stuff.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 04/23/09 at 03:41 AM

You make me miss camping, as always. The autumn scene, the ageless site, and those last two lines - most enjoyable.

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