Posted in Luc-Bat

Soggy Supersized Stroll

We were already lost,
in itself a high cost to pay.
Camp was so far away.
Then a light summer spray began.
Not a part of our plan,
sudden winds made a fan with drops
pulling out all the stops.
We were soaked from our tops to shoes.
Nothing left we could lose,
moving forward we’d choose to run,
but with no sense of fun,
to the place we’d begun (we’d hope).
Down a slick, slimy slope
in a brown, muddy soap on shale,
fighting urges to wail,
we got back to the trail at last.
And if ever we’re asked,
rainy day hikes this vast are quashed.

© Susan Schoeffield

Written for the Day 24 of Creative Bloomings “Granada Camp for Wayward Poets” prompt to write a poem about being caught outside in the rain.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s