Ode to Summer Camp in the Second Person

You     rat in the walls of childhood
desire to milk tears from a homesick child
a real place      you can almost draw it                        superimposed on a map
you know it existed
because            you were there once

swimming in that sundress     
that too-long t-shirt     that lake
waterlogged shoes clinging
to your silk and your first self-inflicted hair cut

Behind the laundry cabin a pair of pants around a pair of ankles      a sigh  
no        more likely children laughing or children crying
the rats                        your pets         made flesh each summer