A poem for Day 18 of Paul Brookes’ 30DaysWild challenge. If you have a camping related piece of writing or photo, send it in.

House-tent

This house beneath the stars sits
knees to chest upon the hillside,
gazing down where dark is deepest.

We sit and watch together,
as the stars dance and moon rises,
through the window full of night-light,

and we gaze into the tree-dark,
where the stream runs loud in springtime,
and the owls scream loud at night-time.

This house with sky as coping
is my tent, beyond is untamed,
I can hear its wild heart pulsing,
touch the bat-winged night air beating,
and I taste the summer coming.