Campsite

I
woke
to a cloudless
evening sky
and swaying branches
of hazel
and birch
I was really
barely there
unable to move
or unwilling
it didn’t matter which
the insects
didn’t even notice me
and all around
were hushed
excited voices
of close friends
enjoying one another
and a constant drone
of grimy
happy children
their words a mix
of foreign tongues
and laughter
it was perfect
and just then
a wind came through
and played the trees
like an orchestra
of harps
and as much
as I wanted to stay
I was lulled
to sleep
again