Home » Poems » Gershon Wolf » The Campfire

The Campfire

  
     In wispy circles the smoke ascended
        from a campfire that just ended

     Embers yet glowing from below
        from tales of ghosts and marshmallows

firefoodfunnostalgiacouplet

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Karen Jones

March 4, 2026 at 11:05 PM

Did you know this poem is on soups top 100 new poems list? Congratulations!

Marikate Kingston

February 11, 2026 at 6:14 PM

Your poem would make two nice painted pictures. Campfires smell so good, but one must not forget a thin long stick, chocolate and graham crackers on hand to make a smore. :)

Kim Rodrigues

January 22, 2026 at 7:29 AM

Love that last line! Fave

Gershon Wolf

January 22, 2026 at 9:37 PM

Hey, it tastes good too, eh?

Joe Maverick

January 21, 2026 at 3:47 PM

I find them bland marshmallows btw Its the same anytime of day.'

Regina Elliott

January 21, 2026 at 9:06 AM

Love this, Gershon, a FAV. This poem sweetly reminds me of my childhood/youth when my late father took us camping in the summer to mostly Montauk or Upstate New York. I can still smell the burning embers of the campfires and the marshmallows toasting on a stick. Thank you so much for the fond memory. Shalom to you and your’s. :)