Campfire

 
It starts at dusk with quiet simple strum.
‘It’s campfire time!’ the gleeful kids exclaim.
Lost souls align with rhythm of the drum.

Melodious solo bids the campers come -
marshmallow sticks are shared as well as names;
It starts at dusk with quiet simple strum.

They might come happy, or they might feel glum:
with eyes obscured by flickering of flames,
lost souls align with rhythm of the drum.

The more reserved in sotto voce hum,
while others unleash harmonies untamed.
It starts at dusk with quiet simple strum.

Who knows just what this evening might become?
Confessions flow as laughter eases shame;
lost souls align with rhythm of the drum.

In darkness, ballads mingle with the rum,
and drinking songs set merry hearts aflame.
It starts at dusk with quiet simple strum;
Lost souls align with rhythm of the drum.