The child of city streets
forever dreaming of forests
woodlands and worn paths
the Queen Anne's Lace on the side
of summer camp roads
Ferns
all those frowsy blowsy leaves
bowing beside the paths we walked
that's where I was spoiled most
in the glens and secret walkways
of childhood summers far from concrete
I adopted a rock once
not far from the tent in which
I slept covered in cool breezes
a special rock requiring just
a slip of a climb
My thinking rock
the summer I turned 13
the summer of my adoration
of a counselor
Lynnea
who taught me massage
and ran away in the middle of the summer
with some stupid boyfriend
Just before she left
she came to me and swore me
to secrecy
and then gave me a massage
a backrub
and I adored her even more
crying when she left because I knew
she was truly gone
My rock was my solace
my solitude
just 20 feet beyond my tent
at the edge of camp
and on hikes there were
Queen Anne's Lace
Black Eyed Susans
and thousands and thousands
of ferns and their fronds
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~Find your soul and dance with it~
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