Community of the Campfire

Community of the Campfire David J Walker I I’d forgotten the scent of the campfire And its sense of mystery and Community for the few who Were invited to its borders Offering its view of a flame Named eternity If only it could be harnessed and Deciphered II Mother and Father Built a campfire near a windmill On the loneliest road In New Mexico They laid out in a pallet of quilts Under the stars While the children slept in The spacious back seat of A Hudson In the morning we gathered At the fragrant heat of dried Mesquite branches on fire As Mother made a breakfast of Dice spam cooked in scrambled eggs III The first thing on our arrival At the San Isabel Campgrounds Was to gather up the Dry tender kindling while father Picked out the larger branches To make a fire The mountains provided the pine while He used his crossbow saw and an ax To attack the chore as a man with experience I watched and learned as the Campfire burned in the pit Later I would mimic it IV On crisp Autumn Sunday mornings My love and I would sit In our backyard Garden of Eden By a raised firepit Warming ourselves As the morning sun rose Wondering if Adam and Eve had it so good Anyway, we had clothes, Hoodies and sweats And no snakes to contend with