Yolk Night

The river murmured gently as it carved its night path nearby. The blue jays had long since been fluffed up in their nests. The rest of the girls were tucked in. And there we were, standing on the steps outside the cabin. A familiar darkness that night seemed to provide for us the safest vulnerability, if one could ever exist. Gigantic ants and dusty moths- she didn't seem to care anymore. She spilled and I spilled, two leaky faucets in the woods but in need of no repair. It was the cloudiest of nights, and the sky was a gray blur. I couldn't see them, but with every word this child spoke I felt as if one by one, all those forgotten dreams- what Stang called stars- blazed up and fell back onto the earth as shooting stars. These were reminders of the simple secrets I once knew and cherished. The fuel to my ambitions. The beauty and goodness of a human. A human growing, a human giving, a human being. Thank you Bubbles, Cindy Lou, Freckles, Kirby, Raspberry, Skip, Strawberry Cheesecake, Waffles, and Pumbaa.