— Luba Sieradzka
Last summer my prison was like no other,
Convicted to it by my very own mother.
To spend two weeks in some place,
Wiped from existence without a trace.
Art camp, I was told, was my destination.
To drive me insane was my
Blessed with the patience of a saint,
I left home with little aspiration to paint.
So off to the airport I went,
Protesting all along as I was sent.
I was good, so what was my crime?
Why did I have to put in this time?
My cries and objections fell on deaf ears,
I’m too old to shed any such tears.
Then came such a revelation,
I was the oldest to my humiliation.
There I was surrounded by a new generation.
How did I find myself in this situation?
Mother, I hate you, I hissed
How many friends reruns would I miss?
The weather was freezing cold and wet,
My friend was on a cruise for the Caribbean set.
Nothing can go more wrong I said at last.
Oh I was wrong, there’s my brothers foot in a cast.
Very slowly, in the days that past,
I searched for peace that didn’t last.
Observing the little flirting between girls and boys.
I amused myself by watching their ploys.
I listened to their ridiculous tales,
Learned more about the minds of young males.
I smiled and wondered, was I like that back then?
Thank God I don’t remember anything
past the age of ten.
With each day I saw something new.
It was like living in a small, little zoo.
Still, before I knew it, I grew to like them all,
They managed to touch me in big ways and small.
Each one brought something new and fun,
And we even got to see the sun.
Yes, there was goofing off, but hard work as well,
Beautiful images of art too precious to sell.
The whole trip was an adventure to remember,
Something to recall in dark December.
Two weeks finally came to an end.
My love to all my new Friends now I send.
Dont forget the good times we had,
Remember leaving was really so sad,
Hopefully soon our paths will cross,
These friends are forever, never to be lost.