Member Poem

With no stairwell, we use the rain for rods;
listen to it drumming on the caravan.
The pump pushes rain from the water butts
and the water runs soft from the tap –

listen to it drumming in the caravan.
We take a rudimentary shower;
soft water falls from the rose,
washes the mud off our weary bodies.

After a rudimentary shower,
we find the towels that the sun has stiffened,
pat water off our weary bodies
and push the hard mattresses together;

we bind the towels that the sun has stiffened
and talk of the river that will flood the path;
there on the hard mattresses together
we listen to peaches swell, and the owl.