sticky
plastic mattress cover
crinkles with every breath
beneath the thick polyester
sleeping bag, unused
afraid to move
and wake the campers
the top bunk is hotter
even with the ceiling fan
that squeaks and wobbles
like its going to fall
a lost lightning bug flashes
crickets sing outside
someone keeps coughing
exhaustion exacerbates irritation
the humid air clings
sweat on every inch of skin
soaking pajamas and sheets
great
now the bathroom calls
and it’s a slow, careful sneak
from bunk to ladder to door
into the buggy outdoors
to reach the outhouses
a hurried walk
on slippy, mossy paths
and the same returning
to that gross damp
in hopes of finding
sleep
Summer Camp
Your poem allows the reader to tag along, albeit a bit reluctantly. The word * sticky * tells me it’s just miserable there from the first line. Outhouses are iconic of summer camps… using * slippy, mossy paths * makes me just cringe!! Well done!
If I didn’t know better, I’d think you never wanted to go to summer camp!!!
What a vivid capturing of the not so pleasant side of summer camps – I never went to one, but your descriptions herald one of the reasons I avoided them – the worry of waking others and the worry of not sleeping due to everything else!! Love it!