My morning muse is hiking through the convolutions of my brain, but with a strange message even I don’t understand…
There was a time when Jim and me
Used to talk more openly
Giggling as we chased each other’s flashlights on tent walls,
Ignoring calls and flashing lights from porches
manned by mothers.
But secrets always were in whispers
and over time just grew intense
and sobering with the changes in their life or death decisions.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology