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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