River Bend Campground

Horizons

Futures are there they never end.

Where sky meets the water and the river bends…

River Bend Campground

Dusk is here the sun has gone campfires lit and lanterns glow.

Smoky embers scatter to the skies like comets racing to the moon.

Fisherman sit by the fire telling tales of wealth and fame

Do fisherman lie who knows who cares.

Roll out the bags of army green from wars long ago, their scent of damp and musky memories.

Mosquitoes buzz the air.

Doors on the outhouses slam on their hinges-all modesty gone.

Willows cast their shadows and hide the gurgling creek.

Our campground sits on the River Bend where moonlight bathes the rushing water.

A chill is in the air

Fishermen of River Bend crawl into their sleeping bags like a caterpillar’s cocoon.

Lanterns sputter and flicker till all is dark and still all except the endless ripples of creek water and the starry light.

The wary raccoon and sultry skunk wait patiently in the shows of the pines for the fisherman to snore.

Now these anglers are sleeping, their lullaby a swirling current of bubbling water cast the dreams of another fishing day to come.

 

Written by

Valorie Hornsby