The camp in the desert

Camp in the desert – thirteen or so
schoolboys, a constellation of tents
and you’ll be the first to know – just
before night I sampled by foot some
deserted space. Dense noiselessness –
mosquitoes, and busy trees stirring with leaves
this pond, a lake you’re likely to
recognise. It’s where I took the photo
no one else could see – it’s the
pernicious mix of unruly purples – it’s
the ripples where my wading feet have
been that give the jailbreak game away.
But you should’ve seen the fence I
had to climb – cutting diagonals through air –
the wrinkled wood; hand fed wire,
but a fence? out there? she asked.

© 2000 Trout &
Will Fox