gotta git real close
to the page to see
the lines so that
it doesn't come
out too messy and the kids
might bicker
all night long as we chill
everything else is secondary...
london-derry, new hampshire
camp ground seventh
grade maybe
twelve thirteen years old
when it seemed as though it would
stay simple forever...
reaching far back
and you still gotta git
really close to understand
where this mind is at
ten thirty on a Saturday night
outside as often as possible
before cold months come and
I am forced inside to move the pen
gotta git closer I guess
wasted two whole lines
because my reverse eye disease
and not-so-steady hand
scribbles away while the rest
of everyone remains
content inside all year long
it's okay no matter
we all pick our favorite
spots to ourselves watching and
listening and waiting then
changing everything upside down...
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