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the lagoon, water brown and murky, clinging to every hair as i emerge
daylilies, blooming bright orange and friendly
dirt, on the back of every child’s neck, resisting a shower one more day
mildew, warm and welcoming, the sharp smell penetrating my lungs as i race through the lodge
every other protruding branch, we slowly feel our way back to our cabin in the dark
the spinning wheel, layers of crusted clay chipping off into my grimy hands
the pungent dust, kicked up by the fraz players, finding my eyes, nose and mouth
the water, the purest water i have ever swallowed, right from the ground
yells of joy as the last two ga ga ga players have it out in the ring
the click clack of plastic plates as i carry a stack and set them down in the low cupboards, the top few falling to the floor.
safe