you are your own shadow
Every day, we passed by the same thatched roof home nested
under a cluster of trees by the water's edge, on our way to the main river.
We called this tributary, Route 66. It was a Viet Cong hotbed under the
cover of night, the scene of many firefights between the Cong and river
patrol boats. During the day, it was a picture postcard Eden. Hard to
imagine danger lurking from those shores. The same woman, always without
Copyright Robert D. Wilson, 2003