They may not wish to be seen
but then find they need
to be seen:
There is a mountain where a hill used to be
and a hill where the mountain used to be.
Sometimes there is a river;
at other times a stream –
once a trickle of water barely capable of
climbing a pebble.
Now and then a car pulls up.
The driver gets out, walks around,
examines the scenery, departs.
Few stay more than a minute or two.
Fewer still stay longer
and no one camps at all, no,
no one camps at all.
It isn’t much of a place,
but it is their place
and the only place they care to be.
The only place they care to stay.
Safe, this place.