Strumble Head
We pegged our tent to the scrub
at Strumble Head, a mussel on a rock,
watched the November sun plop into black
and the start of the free star-show.
We wedged the stove out of the wind,
broke veg, threw lentils in, knocked back
red wine from tin mugs, feasted
clad in bobblehats, breathing out fog.
We slid into sleeping bags,
zipped out the world, stuck the bottle
in the tent pocket. In nature’s silence
and the blackness of seven o’clock
we braced the first shiver of undressing
and the exquisite search for warmth.