note: This is not a photo of an actual campfire from last summer, so all of you who have been to Tawonga can stop tilting your head and squinting your eyes and asking yourself, "Is that at The Burn? Is that in the Freedom Forest? Is that by the Moadone?" The answer is no, no, no, it is not any of those places. I do not know where it is or who those people are. I found the picture on the Internet.
While going through a Whole Foods bag of mail and other papers that have been collecting in my absence the past four months, I found a sheet of paper on which during a dull moment at camp last summer I wrote a set of haikus reflecting my experiences at that time. Now don't start with me about the semantics of what is and is not a haiku. It's more than just 5-7-5, I know, but not in this case. So there. Enjoy...
#1, about the grooming:
curly wild hairdos
no one ever showers here
Jewish summer camp
#2, about the schedule:
Peet's coffee at eight
rest hour each afternoon
bedtime snack at ten
(note: "hour" has two syllables in this verse)
#3, about the integration between housing and nature:
spiders share my bed
munching noises in the night
I don't live alone
#4, about one of the nighttime activities:
thick smoke fills my throat
s'mores would make this much more fun
i don't like campfires
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