Poem: For Penny

With the broken-hearted language of the abandoned,
the orphan spoke into the rising smoke
above the campfire.

Her voice carried through the smoke and sparks
into the night beyond
where everything is sky.

The spirits conjured there
were kind and full of yearning,
like her.

Every word was clear.
Across these many years I remember them still.
“We all find love, right, Tommy?”

The hard laughter of the others
choked the answer in my throat.

In the silence
the night grew chill
and stole her away.

“Yes, Penny.”

Fiction