Camp

Michelle Nedboy

One of the trees was off limits because

it grew out of Bloody Mary’s corpse

some of the braver, stupider boys would climb

and swing on its branches, and we would

yell warnings at them

one time a white cat peeked its head out the woods

during soccer, and we went and chased it,

the counselors helpless and confused

The hot itchy sun shines in my eyes,

cooking my face and water-slicked arms

the sound of my shallowed breathing loud in my ears

my hand reaching and searching for the wall

I didn’t know what a period was

just that mermaids were real and I liked my bathing suit

I was eight when the nine-year-old boy

asked for help with his video game

I was teased by the counselors one day,

as they made kissy faces and pronounced us

husband and wife

my face grew hot and red, my voice shrill

I felt oddly ashamed for getting so upset

Girls who were young enough ran and danced nakedly

in the locker room, no sense of shame on their faces

I watched, dressed, as a little blonde girl mimicked her

older brother’s dirty gesture, and I was touched by her innocence

the twelve-year-old who was

already growing hair made me nervous and awed

her casualness was unnerving, her acceptance of time

so mature that all I could see her as was

a woman