The Notebook

The notebook with its torn red cover The notebook that came to camp with me The notebook that endured staff training The notebook with lessons of leadership and teamwork The notebook that planned activities for warm, starry evenings The notebook, its water-crinkled, sundried pages The notebook that watched us sunbathe and giggle on the docks The notebook that survived the attack of twenty tiny tweens The notebook of mermaids, dragons and whales The notebook covered in sparkles from stupid, silly fights The notebook that gave me a seat on the dewy morning grass The notebook that saved us all while inside during storms The notebook that told adventure stories to people back at home The notebook whose cover creased under the weight of our laughter The notebook that sang songs and parodies at Thursday night shows The notebook that fed the fire and roasted our marshmallows The notebook that laid next to me as shooting stars flew The notebook we stealthily passed after lights went out The notebook filled with last goodbyes and unbreakable promises The notebook that both laughed and cried as I drove away from childhood The notebook that smells of campfires, fresh grass and sunshine The notebook of “How-do-you-do’s” and “I-love-you’s” The notebook that brings friends all within arm’s reach The notebook that makes me cry on nostalgic, sleepless nights Because I can’t bring that summer back But I can relive the memories.