Ode To My Fallen Traveling Friend
When I first set you up in 2009
I had to look up the directions online.
In an Oregon Country Fair field with little reception
I slowly found your set up instruction.
'Twas at that Fair you were aptly named "The Palace,"
The luxurious tent that mirrored my ballast.
Through Burning Man pilgrimages and road trips galore
Setting you up was never a chore.
I could single handedly erect you in minutes
Squelching ideas of solo traveler limits.
You were shelter for friends, family, five pets and I
Keeping us all safe, cool, warm and dry.
I was proud to grease your zippers and patch your holes,
That maintenance meant we'd met more traveling goals.
Thank you for your service my beloved tent
I was devastated when your poles were bent
In that Lake Mead wind storm your demise began
But last weekends broken door zipper was fate's last hand.
That and the rain you at last allowed in.
You had served so well up until then
Can you believe we camped at the Grand Canyon?
And in New York? What a great companion!
To the sound of Taps I marched to the trash your remains
Oh the memories of travel with you my heart contains
Thank you so much for being there my tent friend
I will miss you and remember you until my traveling end.
Please forgive the roughness (otherwise known as bad) about this poem. This ode was written in retrospective tears upon returning home from my last camping trip. The first trip I have taken in over seven years from which "The Palace" did not return with me. I considered revising this poem to make it more of a formula ode but decided to publish it in it's raw, exhausted from the camping trip, weary with memories, form.
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