Last night we sat on the stoop
Three outlaws reluctantly reliving
Teenage memories of secret meetings,
Contraband alcohol and the
Carrying out of exuberant transgression
Under cover of night
Like closet homosexuals at a
Christian youth camp
We found each other
Without previous agreement
Smoking and drinking like
Teen rebels of the 1950’s,
We were glad for the opportunity
To break the rules
It took a mundane opportunity to
Perform a daily ritual, turned it into
A special moment.
A flow moment, in fact
(if it pleases the facilitators of the workshop to know)
And despite the absurdity of
The circumstances
It made us feel good
After a while, our tales having
Been told, we retired to
Our cabins in the dark, rainy night
THE MOSSY BOG 