Camping Out
Three vehicles
parked in a circle.
A modern wagon train.
Inside the sanctuary of the circle,
instead of children playing as they did
in the days of the covered wagons -
empty bottles, a gas stove,
bags of dog food, wrinkled clothes, wet towels,
folding chairs and food wrappers.
Everything is varnished
with a blue, wet cold.
Mom, Dad and teenage boys spend a lot of time
inside the vehicles with their dogs.
They read, listen to the radio,
play with damp cards, tell stories, and dream of the
time when they can have hot water
tumbling over them in their new home.
They are up at four to start the cars
to warm up a bit.
Then, a few hours of sleep
before the little car pulls out in the dark,
on it's first mission of the day to
take the boys to school, a few miles away.
Four dogs. Two brown ones,
one black and white one, and a new, brown
one rescued when a far-away, family member died during
their stay in the church field.
The black and white dog
runs out to the end of his
rope until it is stopped quick with the choke chain.
They all would like to get away, off their chains...
The boys, wash their long hair from
water warmed a bit in the sun on the hood of dad's car.
Sometimes I catch mom or dad drying their hair
with big, orange towels.
Some mornings, I see them walk over the dirt
hills of the bicycle park
to the
public bathrooms.
They walk slowly, carrying their towels
and the weight of their plight.
Copyright © Thomas Pitre | Year Posted 2008
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