LEAVING CAMP

The campers wake before the sun
in their cabins on the lake.
The saddest day has now begun--
the roses tremble on the stake.

No pick-pock of the tennis ball
disturbs the silence of the day,
no berries stud the bush this fall;
the baskets all are stored away.

The crunch of tires on the drive,
the hugs hello and tales exchanged--
the adults and their world arrive,
and everything you know has changed.


IVYLAND

The last time I saw you, children
rushed at each other in the twilight that never seemed
to end. These days
I wake at dawn, still in my body, and the slow
ache of your absence goes through me.