Volunteer
We sit around the volunteer campfire.
The heat warming our chilled bodies.
Red yellow flames flicker in the darkened sky.
Holding bottles of cold beer.
Some silently drink with solitary thoughts.
Others are engaged in conversation.
Different languages mingling into one sound.
Laughter and music around us.
Someone dances around the group.
We look suddenly there are two, three then four.
In a circle, we dance chanting like native Indians.
No peace pipe just drunken young happy people.
Fallen asleep around the embers of the fire.
Woken up by the early morning call of birds.
Cold shivers running down our spines.
Off to the dining hall breakfast bread and tea.
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