Both of us knelt by the boat,
and ensured the light – using our last two batteries –
would stay fixed.
My knees, already scraped by the rocks when I washed
out your shirt,
nearly buckled
as I rose up too fast
and simultaneously felt dizzy,
an electrified scarecrow on
the shore of sustenance
or oblivion.
You caught me
and smiled.
“They’ll see our campfire from here.”
Too tired to argue
whether “they” were on our side
or not,
I said nothing,
but looked out at a night
too beautiful to believe
we weren’t simply
on vacation.
I don’t know what happened or what is going to happen but this is beautifully written.
Thank you, afarmer. I was recalling a movie when I did this, so I hoped to recreate the sense of unknowing in its ending.
I wanted to let you know I’d seen your comment, but the WP site’s been giving me fits. Thank you for reading, afarmer. I appreciate your comments.