Winter Again

Poetry About Camp

Yvonne Leehelen Dowell
Camp was a fantasy for a 12 year old...

Who lived in the Projects.

Together we swam in the Meramec River.

Shared secrets as best friends do.

Giggled for the whole week.

Enjoyed each other as best friends do.

We made key chains, and

ate mouth watering watermelon.

We prayed together every day.

We even became blood sisters,

Promising,

We would be buddies...

Forever and always.

Camp was over.

We didn't want to part.

We exchanged numbers.

Excited, a week later

I called my blood sister.

She said, "I can't talk to you, my mom said...

You live in the Projects, and

You are white trash."

Published by Yvonne Leehelen Dowell

I grew up in St.Louis. A lot of my writing portrays where I have lived across Missouri. I am a freelance writer, poet, artist, junk, recipe, doll and book collector! I love to read. I have three grown sons a...  View profile

3 Comments

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  • rmharrington10/30/2010

    Wonder who it was that taught the friend to pray? Perhaps the mom that judged by location rather than person? Sad indeed.

  • Lee Hansen7/27/2010

    How sad the ending.

  • Carmen Magnolia7/20/2010

    Great job. :)

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