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SPRING

3 April, 2012

I want a pup tent.  Nothing fancy, with flaps and rain flys … just a two-

pole, musty smelling, green canvas pup tent.

 

There should be a special place to put it up — perhaps over there where the

yard drops off next to the fairgrounds fence like a miniature, forested

valley.  The tent should come with an old blanket and a Boy Scout mess kit

to use on fine spring nights and days when a boy needs to be alone in the

woods with his thoughts.

 

It should be erected with care and attention to the prevailing winds and

away from the house windows.  Room must be left for a stone fire ring where

imaginary rabbit feasts could sizzle.  It should have at least one tear

patched with masking tape, and possess a mysterious force field that would

keep out all but the most deliciously dreamy thoughts.

 

Of course, I must be allowed a small hatchet to drive stakes into black,

sweet, Minnesota loam, and as defense against aborigines and bears.  Oh —

and I will need a slippery bottle of 6-12 repellent for mosquitoes and

chiggers.

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From → Stories & Poetry

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