The Silence That Follows
When all things fall still
Sunday arrives, the last one that is.
The destination of my own bed in sight.
The silence is instant, after the nap,
Even before reaching the depths of night.
A few weeks at camp, of teaching and caring,
A time of broken hearts and bloodied knees.
The 10 second walk that takes 10 minutes,
Those rebels who do as they please.
From 100 to none, in numbers and volume,
No more din, or calling of my name.
I can hear my breath for once, and the keys as I type,
Soon it’ll be like before, just the same.
But as I return to the place, I made for myself,
The life I’ve built of enjoyment and fun,
Those campers return to their normal lives,
And not all are a place in the sun.
A small town where minds are different,
But you’re the one that sticks out.
A home with no calm and respect,
Just anger, all they know is to shout.
