Village camp

On the first day,
You don’t really notice,
You’re head’s too full of human.

They’re talking lofty things
You’re wondering
How’re you going to make breakfast when you left the yoghurt behind?
Did you bring enough blankets to keep everyone warm over night?
Will the kids ever stop clinging like limpets?

It starts to creep in.
You are charmed by the pair of fairy wren sitting
Just there
On the log by your tent.

It seeps into the tender places,
Making you cross.
You turn to your partner and snap “When is it my turn for a holiday?”

Then you weep.

The ground soaks up your tears.
The wind caresses your face.
The trees sigh.
You notice your heart
Not just beating but feeling.

Someone hugs you and you let them.

Your chest expands with the dawn chorus.
You gather bull rush with the other women
And are struck by ancient echoes.

You notice
You haven’t seen the kids for an hour.
You are not quite sure where they are.
You are not worried.


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