: poetry :

Camping

two minutely thin sheets surround me
    like a canvas cocoon
that's all my protection from the
    harsh elements
all that stands between me and the
    howling wind
beating rain attacks the tent, I sink
    deeper into my sleeping bag

daylight seem only to ebb away
    slowly into night
reading becomes difficult until I
    switch on the torch
sounds outside become increasingly
    unfamiliar and surreal
shadows grow over the tent wall
    before sinking into the night

crashing waves on the shingle shore
    beat relentlessly to the night
the rain becomes heaver while being
    hurtled against the canvas
night has fallen, I switch off the light,
    plunging into darkness
natures repetitive beat becomes
    fainter as I drift off to sleep.

Nick Bailey 2002