We waved off our middle child today,
All pink and rosy and full
Or, not so much bounce, what with carrying a backpack
Cram-jammed full for a week of fun
In the sun and the dirt and the green.
A week we’ll pick her up again,
Still, no doubt, rosy
Seven nights under canvas,
Seven days filled end-to-end
And top to bottom
With climbing trees,
Building rafts and making friends.
This is the stuff lifetimes are made of
In the height of summer,
Just a poem I wrote after Fluff went off to camp this morning. It’s not a great poem, but it has within it what I wanted to say and it’s a start on the road back to writing 🙂