Camp 420

I have a picture of us.
I don't remember
how it wound up
on my computer,
when I scanned it in,
or who took it.

But it was taken before
we got stoned
out of our minds.

Just you and me
on the bank of the river,
side by side.

I am holding an American Flag,
wearing boy shorts and a tee,
braids down my back.

Today I remembered how,
behind the tarps
we rigged up to hide
families and their
kids from us kids
doing everything kids
do, but never supposed to,

You tried to climb a tree
out over that same bank
and fell face first
into the river.

And how you refused
to leave that bank,
instead danced with
the same American Flag
that someone,
I don't remember who,
handed you
between hits,
and how
you sang to
yourself,
and danced
for

Eight Hours

until you dried.