I've just returned from hiking the Herriot Way in the Yorkshire Dales, and quickly tapped this into yesterday. Fine days and almost unbearably cold nights. It was a great time to reconnect with myself and gain clarity, and leave all that real-world shit behind. So how is it that I had the lightest most expensive tent and backpack, and yet my two buddies' packs were lighter than mine?
Breeze of midges
Home in the heather
Another ridge to summit
Carapace of fabric
Light on my back
My simpler home
My soul kit
Better fit than modern life
Worrisome wool gently warning
Barren beauty above barns, becks and bleating
Pink anointing by sun and sky
Night shell assembled
A warming womb
Against dagger of night cold
Moonlit alloy hurricane
Hammering the air
Black scorpions hunting low
