Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Waiting for a Helicopter

or Why It Sucks to be in a Good Story

We got lost
because we were seventeen
and made poor decisions

We shivered
for one night
in a damp meadow
with scrapes and cuts
that smarted
with oil from unfriendly plants

There was no sleep that night
we huddled together
under a cold clear sky
on a fallen piece of cedar
wondered what would happen
when morning came

When we got back
we had cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate
in a warm fire-station
with our friends and family
later that day
Red Robin gave us free sundaes
because they’d recognized us from the news

We all like telling the story now
it’s probably my best
but in that meadow
we were hours from hypothermic
miserable and waiting

We didn’t know a helicopter would come at dawn
I suppose if we had
it wouldn’t be a good story.

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