Makeshift homes

of the mobile variety

smoke-filled skies

that punctuate the

watery sunset


Laughter, crying

songs and singing

combine with

the crackling logs

to complete

the symphony


My blackened toes

fumble their way

through the heavy

cloth of my sleeping bag

until they find

their sandy home

from the night before


I bear witness to the

modified nighttime rituals

of family after

family, smiling as I

look ahead to think

of those

same memories for

my own


As the sounds fade

and the silence

fills the smoky air

I listen to the

steady breathing

of my two

tent companions

and I relish

the final days

of my summer