a poem in my pocket

first camping trip in pickup with topper
to high school reunion via the black hills
first son is three; he rolls off mattress (on
plywood across back of pickup) onto us!

add a brother and real pop-up camper
on back of brand new pickup (hers!)
fold table down for two boys to sleep…
pack ice and head through death valley

four years later, we pack three sons in
now crowded pop-up (one rolls on floor)
youngest in overalls and conductor’s hat
to ride durango/silverton narrow gauge train.

by the time fourth son arrives, add tent
and stay closer to home; we drive across
nebraska to live history of fort niobrara…
coyotes call and tenters’ mom lies awake.

sell pop-up; buy small trailer, another tent,
and more camping gear for east coast trip with
all five sons, ages 15 to 15 months; visit nation’s
capitol where one son’s lost & found in rotunda.

as sons leave home, no need for two tents;
with grandma’s trust money for Christmas,
two middle-aged campers find fully-equipped
fifth-wheel trailer and now we go glamping!