a poem a day for a year #101

by Amy Turn Sharp


my father and my husband and my son sat around a campfire
talking about the universe
I was inside of the tent
making blanket nests and pulling on warm clothing
being the quiet to their jabber
they talked about light a lot
and how some stars where already burnt out
dead
but we kept on seeing the shine
we kept on wishing the wishes
they talked about technology
and old people
time travel
moon shine
and my little son he asked his grandfather
if we were young
the fire cracked and popped and hissed
and my little son said
we are quite young aren't we?
and my father told him he was correct
we are young in many ways
he said

and his voice sounded like a whisper

and just like that I felt so old
inside of a tent that sat on the land of my childhood
inside of a tent that hid my fear