Bunk Twelve

   There were thirteen of us

Mostly friends

The bunk was bigger than the others,

white with green trim

The clothesline

was always filled

with towels, clothes,

anything

The grassy area

was green as the trees -

Behind was woods.



Inside the bunk

always a lot of noise:

people yelling, screaming at each other

or the quiet sounds

of private conversations

a pink closet right when you walk in

the rafters were solid wood

The beds were either blue or brown

the cubby room

was pink.



Our rather ugly bathroom

had brown doors

the shower was beyond a wall

in a little alcove;

the sinks were white;

they always dripped.

The mirror made you look bigger.



There were thirteen of us,

mostly friends;

this poem is a snapshot

I'm in the middle

smiling like a candle.