Even Summer Must End

Leave no trace, we say, pouring water

from newly dented Hydroflasks onto embers.

Steam rises above dimming campfires,

where it joins the circulating rumors of Axel

the Giant Snapping Turtle which never

totally disperse (they are true, after all).

I love you in the morning and in the afternoon,

we sing at lunch while opening apple sauces

and peeling oranges. Summer storms chase

us inside Tamarack Lodge where we cheer

on the lightning. Campers squish through

mud in search of salamanders. I love you

in the evening and underneath the moon.

Time shifts imperceptibly while Lake

Gordon fish nibble grilled cheese

crumbs that float above ever-hopeful nets

and our stick forts on Blueberry Island

are expertly constructed and demolished.

Hot glue can’t hold googly eyes on rock pets

forever, we remind our campers–

the beauty is in knowing we were here.

Piper Daleiden