this panorama doesn't show it but now the leaves have dropped 
i see in the scrim of trees south of the haunted train arcade 
about six huts made of various matter like birds nests 
made of natural fibers and plastic human litter.  
the picture of that torn coat on a stump 
that looked like a sad-eyed ghost on the north side of the haunted train arcade 
was where the camp once was, before some official deemed it unfit.  
perhaps the other side is more discrete, sheltered, and away from the sledders. 
i would never have known it was there when the leaves were on the trees, and even revealed it's hardly visible, and so still, one would not know people live there. 
now i think back of the time lulu was spooked 
in the arcade when a freight train came rumbling 
and she went bonkers and i hugged her to the ground by the scrim of trees 
which were full of leaves.  
lulu must have sensed the inhabitants, 
and i wonder if anyone peered out at us as we 
struggled in the grass. 
i feel a kind of pride in the folks on the periphery. 
i'd like to picture them in their hardscrabble habitat,
yet i wood be intruding, when they want to blend 
in secret with the scenery. 
i would say i'm a creature of the periphery 
too, but they might look at me funny, 
go pfft, turning toward their home in the trees 
and not believe.