Adirondack Peeks Summer 2023

Poem Untitled Victoria Challingsworth, #8789

Tossing and turning, sleep evades me. My body doesn't recall, can't adjust, to the softness of a bed. It wonders where the lean-to's hard plank floors have gone. The air here is quiet, save for the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Still, my ears listen for the crickets, and the rustle of night visits from resident mice. The room is comfortable, warm even. My skin is heated, wishing for the crisp prickle of an early fall night. The sheets smell pleasant, like detergent and lavender. Yet my nose misses the aroma of campfire, and the tang of the day's sweat. Enclosed in warm blankets and fluffy pillows, What I truly want is the swish of a down-filled sleeping bag, Paired with the exhaustion and satisfaction, Which comes from tromping endless miles, through Adirondack wilderness, making the sleeping bag the most comfortable bed on earth.

Photo taken by Sherry Roulston #12512

SUMMER 2023 | 17