Caren Krutsinger Poet Narrative

Smack Crackle Pop

Smack crackle pop The fire was throwing herself
She would smoulder occasionally into grey
Then revive herself with orange flame shoots,
delighting me and the other kids.

These kids were pretty much strangers to me.
I was re-thinking my decision
to tag along with my cousins, who  were wearing 
unusual faces in the  shadows of the fire. 
A loud popping sound came from behind. "Was that a gun?"

Some of us laughed nervously. Probably a deer walking in the woods, 
A camp counselor suggested. Sure....

The tents were starting to look  maniacally mean
Same time next year?
My cousin whispered into my ear. I sat mesmerized,
staring at the campsite that always brings me home.

Of course! I whispered back. This was only my thirteenth
year at Lake Red Haw. Why would I change any of this?
An owl hooted a friendly hello.
And I smiled.
Knowing I would take this memory to heaven.

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Silent One March 30, 2019 at 5:56 AM Only ever had one camp fire, that was whilst camping... nice poem Caren.. Caren Krutsinger March 30, 2019 at 9:23 AM Thank you Silent One. I am so grateful to you for your visit today.

Rhona Mcferran March 29, 2019 at 11:04 PM This is beautiful, my friend. There's something very magical about campfires at night.... great memories! ;) Caren Krutsinger March 30, 2019 at 4:18 AM You know I had three campfires this week at my home, right? One of them was a mistake; I quickly realized I could have easily had a forest fire.

Bette Bavington March 29, 2019 at 9:34 PM Being a girl Scout I can relate to this being around the camp fire being with strangers who became my friends by the end of the singing, talking, cooking smores or just plan marshmellows. It was fun. It was a place where we were on our own to certain degree. It's a great memory of childhood. Enjoyed immensely. Caren Krutsinger March 30, 2019 at 4:19 AM Thank you Bette. There is nothing more endearing, and no better way to make life-long friendships.