Constant crackles of the campfire,
and the occasional sharp pops dominate all other noise,
sending sparks shooting through the air,
illuminating the entire campsite.
Sunlight peeks through each cliff and tree,
and it bounces off the river
which flows through every trail.
Budding flowers align the valley walls,
and the thick mud laces the pathways
The heavy humidity causes steady sweat,
nly to be cooled off by the natural canopy of the trees.
Or a quick dip in the shallow creek,
tickled by the vast schools of minnows
In the crystal clear stream.
As night turns cold and heartless,
so do the sticks and rocks,
upon which you sleep,
underneath the Mount Everest of blankets
Shooting through your mind.
Wolf howls seem close,
and a single snap of a twig,
Triggers your deepest fears.
Where a good night sleep,
turns into a battle with your mind.
What lurks in the darkness of a campground.