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Camp
by Leonard M HawkesOn the old road
Through cut barley and aspen
We rose from Summer
To ragged pines
And scattered snow--
A silent moon stared downward
But covers were warm
As we touched
In the night
--Waking early to Fall
And the stolid inevitability
Of Winter stars.
09/22/2013 Author's Note: Lake of the Woods, Wyoming
Posted on 09/22/2013
Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 09/22/13 at 01:29 PM Thank you for sharing this beautiful piece of writing. It has successfully painted a most pleasing picture in my mind. Love it! |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 09/23/13 at 02:28 AM I can feel the chill of camping through your words and the changing seasons, smell the smells, anticipate the early morning fire in the pit. Thanks for this. Happy Autumn. |
| Posted by Dorian Black on 09/27/13 at 12:13 AM The imagery is brilliant in this piece, Sir. I could almost feel the brisk bite of the air, and the warmth of a companion under a blanket of stars. Very well written, Friend. |
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