Campfire Song

Come here, Boy.
Sit next to my skins
And play the string a bit louder.
I cannot remember myself
Without the tune.

Wear that earthiness
We know so well
And fear not the dampening reeds
Around the pit -

Growing wider and threatening
To put out the fire of summer
And last minute love stories.

I know not the camp of our youth
Anymore.
Anymore, I cannot remember my morning
Or the one before that -

One night when you brushed
My hair aside
And told me it'd be another year
Before we met again.