Camped out
I was the last camper not gone to rest
Contemplating in the eerie misty fogs
Andy the fire god had done his best
Mike had fret on coals from pine logs
They were all gone now, gone to rest
It was now I alone and the fiery beast
I stoked memories with a lack of zest
It was shaded thoughts to say the least
That I could not lay to final rest
Reflected back in orange embers
I wonder at just whose behest
Before dawn what one remembers?
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