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it’s a good day
when in the end
you smell like smoke
and have marshmallow goo
in your beard,
and dirt beneath
your fingers,
and a thin film
of perspiration
covers your body,
and you watch kids
hold a rooster
for the first time,
and when you’re sitting
around a fire
and the moon
is brighter than
it should be,
and the fire holds
the kids like a magnet
as they laugh and shout
stupid jokes,
each one vying
for attention,
and you jump in
with your lame humor
laced with sarcasm
and wisdom,
and you eat fruit
and take photos
of droplets,
and you breathe
and you breathe

and
you
breathe.