Shadows and ghosts fill this place
of people long gone
their faces shadows or
dying wisps of a memory
in people's minds.
One sits here and wonders
how long until
I am a fading memory?
How long until I forget
the sound of reveille
the words to Goodnight Nashoba
the faces of the counselors
the voices of Rangeley at night.
Some things fade quicker than others.
But I hope I never forget a few things:
the sunset as we watch campfire
the chatter of the dining hall
the giggling of little kids
when someone is goofing off
the pulse of the dances
the smell of the wet grass
the race to the candy line
the excitement of getting a "parcel"
the thrill of hearing you name
over the loud speaker
and the way things used to be.

the smiles of hello
the tears of goodbye
and all the wonderful memories
that nine years has given to me.

so here's to the fading memories,
grasp them tight
remember me often
as I remember you each night

here's to those fading memories,
please grasp them tight.
remember me often
as I am tonight.

while I love this poem, it was rewritten after my last summer, and a revisit two years later to camp, so the rewrite is here.