Camp Lonesome Pine Family Portrait

Found between tree lines and an open
Field
An old photograph half
Relinquished to nature,
Stubborn in part-a portion refuses
To yield
Barely visible
Plucked with fingertips painted
A specific shade of dirt and wanderlust hiding
Amongst bluestem lean-tos,
Thought to crouch, to
Get down on two knees
Catch a better view
Make lakes for small animals,
Crawl under the poorly thatched roof
Maybe fall asleep for a little while,
Strip bare absorb newfound bliss
Use old focused light as a blanket
Finding comfort in an unfamiliar image-

Is life not simply just
Discovering pieces of ourselves
In foreign situations?

It was a tarnished analog log cabin
Hew marks like calligraphic
Brush strokes visible on the wall,
Window rotted mostly
Slightly off-center
Small glimmer hinted
At a sill brimming
With coffee cans and tin mugs,
There was a mixed group of maple faced
Pioneers standing middlemost,
Smiles falling off the photograph,
Flipped over ever so faint
Was the date “1994”,
Two years before I was born but
Yet it seemed,
As rays of sun in brilliant
Reflection of cedar gold and wildflower periwinkle
Merge and dissolve and bare foot trails
Rise into wilderness,
That we were smiling together

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Author: Montana Svoboda

I'm a genderless poet currently living in Central Michigan where I attend college for Environmental Science and English. Nature's some cool shit, frisbee's a neat activity, fountain pens are best pens, Latakia for life, coffee and tea keep these gears turning.

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