They didn't tell us until we went to the cook tent, where they sleep, at 9 pm for some hot water and found them lying on the stone floor wrapped up in a blanket.

Some readers do not care overmuch for poetry.

On the brown harvest tree Droops the red cherry.

Davey Freakin' Crockett couldn't have hit the bull's eye better than I did. Talk about your Deadeye Dicks.