s'mores even in the dead cold of winter
With my first bite
I feel the warmth of a summer night on my minimalist covered skin
Feeling of sitting on a log
The warmth of the fire

With my second bite of the tasty gooey s’more
I see the campsite
I see the tent set up
I see the roaring fire 
I see the chairs set up
But most important I see my friends

The third bite of the tasty cracker marshmallow chocolate delite
I hear the rumble in the jungle of bugs
I hear the crackling of the fire
I hear the splitting of wood
But most importantly I hear the stupid stories and jokes of my friends

With my final bite I awake from my daydream 
I no longer taste the feeling of hanging out with my friends
I no longer taste the warmth of the fire 
I no longer taste the sound of bugs
That reminds me I should pack for the camout 
Yes in the dead cold of winter