Curiosity draws two youngsters to the flames.
This poem was written for the "The Writer's Cramp" contest
2018 Jan 24
From behind the great boulder, we crouched and we watched.
The flames of the fire licked high in the night.
Two people cringed, another moaned loud.
“What could it be?” Said Billie to me.
“I’m not sure,” said I, “but I’m curious to see.”
Trees cast long shadows that waved in the breeze.
The fire snapped fiercely as a log rolled away.
Three dark little shapes leaned close to the blaze.
I too cocked an ear the better to hear.
Then we scuttled in closer, not a moment to miss.
We slunk on our bellies no care for the dirt.
Elbows and knees soaking wet from the dew.
The leader, he jumped and shouted a “Boo!”
Screeches and laughter arose in the night.
We chuckled as we bolted for we should have known,
It was cramp fire night at the ol’ writer’s cramp.