The Camping Trip
The scent of campfire lingered
On the scalded pot for days.
While our backs were turned
Our feast had burnt to ash.
And when the fervid fire touched
Our sleeping bag
Mimicking a hot embrace
You extinguished flames so deftly
In the shark bite wound
That deblossomed so readily.
I burned my hand
And scented endings.
We crooked ourselves
Around the gaping hole
The desiccated maw
So as not to feel our ancient cold.
No trace now of scent or burn
On pot nor me
Washed clean, healed.
Sleeping bag a memory.
The camping trip an ashen residue
Atop our pyre of blunder
Finally inflamed, combusted
From what had smouldered under.
© Grapher April 2012
YOU ARE READING
Snake.
PoetrySNAKE; to creep, sneak. A person or thing resembling a snake in any of various ways; specifically, a treacherous or deceitful person.
