"Campground"

            Here inside the drug, colors drag.  Seven or eight siblings flock around their mother before all but the oldest leave the campground together.  Another time, it's cold and they help each other build a fire.
            Skirt bunched and caught in my fists, in this pond there are real lilypads.  If I asked you what you saw you wouldn't say lilypads, but if I said look at the lilypads you'd look, even if I'd made them up.