Camp Poem

Camp poem

In front of me I see a soft pebbly beach.

In the distance I see a jutting edge waiting for its next victim.

Above me I see light wispy clouds.

Below me I see dragonfly’s dancing in the wind.

I can hear the cicadas song drowned in the lapping waves.

    In the distance I can hear trucks hoking I can feel the soft blowing wind.

I smell the clean air.

I feel relaxed at camp.

Quinn