The word “shine” made me remember going to summer camp for several seasons of my childhood. I wrote this poem about it:
At Little Flower Camp
At Little Flower Camp
in the summer of 1957,
first time away from home,
She’s nine,
coddled.
Hates how cold the cabin gets at night,
hates the cold twelve stall toilets,
hates having to go swimming in the cold pool.
But the first night,
before bed,
the counselors herded them
into the large pine gathering room.
All of the campers from six to twelve,
little girls,
on the benches facing the stage.
In the dark, the singing began:
Tell me why…..
the stars do shine…
tell me why…
the ivy twines..
tell me why…
the sky is so blue…
tell me , Little Flower,
why do we love you?
All those girl voices,
trailing off the “Why” in a swooping arc,
and the three part harmony…
all those little girls singing
and their voices took her
somewhere she had never gone,
the only child,
from the quiet house of grownups.
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/shine/”>Shine</a>
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/shine/”>Shine</a>
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