A Camper's Dream

A Camper’s Dream

Kathleen McNamara


The “For Sale” sign now wears a bold red sash.
“Sold” it proudly announces to the world.
So sad to see the summer camp now,
a shadow of what it once was.
Old loblolly pines and oak trees
stand guard over dilapidated cabins.
The shed that once held the fishing poles
and sports equipment…empty,
the door hanging by a solitary rusty hinge.

Thoughts of Whispering Pines Camp
were long buried in my memory.
The place… ancient when I was young.

Fire crisp marshmallows, creepy ghost stories
and pine scented campfires:
the trade off of concrete stoops and stickball,
summer time life of a city brat.
Rush hour traffic was replaced
by the meandering creeks that fed the main lake.
Neon lights no match
for the soft flickering green of the fireflies
that danced on the lake each night.

The camper became a counselor,
and as an adult,
this place a memory.
A memory awakened by a real estate listing,
the listing rousing an aching dream.
The dream now held in my hands,
the deed to Whispering Pines,
the future home of:
Loblolly Ranch: Therapy Camp for Children