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Writer's pictureAlice Wyatt

I Hate Camping!

tent, truck, and van

we all lend a hand

raccoon-proof grey totes

we’re camping


wine in red cups

lots of dirt, and some bugs

a cast iron skillet

we’re camping


golden tree leaves

dance in the breeze

warm crackling fire

we’re camping


ravens eat crackers

ignore magpie chatter

as the Gila flows by

we’re camping



afternoons for napping

playing cards or crafting

hot springs for soaking

we’re camping


we eat oh so much bacon

a few shrooms are taken

psychedelic moonbeams

we’re camping


let’s do it again but

remember Sonia and gin

the more the merrier

when camping


three friends together

hearts bound forever

why do I say 

I hate camping?


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