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This 2 man tent we’re in,
it’s too damn small.
Rain drips in, it’s cold.
The air mattresses have gone flat.
Bears got most of our food…
already.
The showers don’t work.
We’re fresh out of toilet paper.
Yeah, the tent keeps out the worst
of the weather.
That’s all I can say.
© Anne Westlund
prompt: write a
shelter poem
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