Camping

We made our getaway on
a Friday night always
after dark in a beige
Studebaker Folgers coffee
can on the floor spilling
Dad’s tobacco
juice at every turn Mom
screaming onto the interstate up
jagged Lake Superior road
slow down! slow down!
gravel throwing rocks falling
asleep waking
up to the musty
smell the canvas
tent wrinkled and
torn about to
collapse around us.

(First published in Edge of Twilight. I own all rights)

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