The Uncertainties of Wild Camping

[RSD7a]

Thought I'd risk another poem ...

Stationed for the night
in a car park by the municipal pool,
just light enough to see, yet dark enough
for illuminated rooms in nearby houses
to reveal the private/public goings en famille.

I emerge, for the last dog walk of the day,
round the edge of an overgrown playing field.
A man, unshaven, lurks in the shadows.
I offer 'bonsoir' and a smile. In return a stony gaze
and perhaps the slightest inclination of the head.

As I walk, the dog pulls then drags
to savour novel, yet universal smells.
During this deliciously unhurried circuit
I reflect on my habitual eager friendliness
and the indifference of the stranger.

Rounding the final bend, out of nowhere
the same man steps from behind a van.
I may have gasped but keep on walking.
His eyes avert and swarthy features
don’t even register this second encounter.

Heart quickening, now inside,
I peer from the safety of our metal-box-home,
to see a woman emerge
and the two wander off, hand in hand.
Tourists on an evening out.