Where the Lost Wander

by Amy Harmon

It’s shelter. It’s sustenance. It’s warmth. It’s finding rest in each other. It’s telling someone, You matter most.

I told her she doesn’t think, she just feels, she just does, but maybe it’s because she is confident enough to trust her instinct and move ahead.

The men sit in council at night, excluding the women, only to go back to their own camps and seek their wives’ opinions.

I realize now that life is just a continual parting of the ways, some more painful than others.