The Campouts

by Cyrus Larcombe Moore

The Wagtail was king of the green
as we were crowned on the hill,
sitting on a sweaty Monday
watching golf balls and sheep.

We walked green lanes
tramped to the tops of tors,
the sun warmed our shoulders
and burnt our necks.

the Rook watched:
as we fell down hills, laced our shoes
and our feet turned blue.
We would rule the green as we ruled the hill.

We ran at raven’s nests in knots of gorse
jumped in scummed-up rivers
churning through fissures of slippery rock.
the Rook peered and cawed.

Deodorant fires burnt our throats
and beers sparked the flame.
We glowed like fireflies,
hummed like bulbs,
and slept like streetlamps.

©Cyrus Larcombe Moore, 2023

This poem was longlisted as part of the Kinship: Poems Exploring Belonging project. Click here to find out more about the project, and other poems on the longlist here.


Concepts of belonging and community have constantly evolving definitions, and have been at the centre of fierce debate in recent years. The first twenty-three years of the new millennium have seen a rise in rhetoric aimed at those without the voice to argue back, and waves of toxic abuse have proliferated – and genocide. How relevant, then, to unite and raise our voices, to celebrate the rich tapestry of humanity, and to explore the labels we use to identify and express ourselves.

Kinship is a poetry anthology that seeks to provide a platform for marginalised voices, and to celebrate the great diversity and rich variation in the identities of people from around the world and from a huge cross-section of walks of life.

Click here for the anthology of shortlisted poems.