Camp

by Cheryl Merrick

The scout’s mother anxiously watches her son leave,
“I hope he comes home safely.”
A week later, the scout returns.
His eyes sparkle as he gives an enthusiastic account,
in Technicolor detail,
of his brushes with danger,
The sharp rock that cut his foot,
“Where were his shoes!”
The burning branch in his hair,
“What was his head doing in the fire?”