They’d see him back to health; he knew they would,
but he would only stay ’til he could run,
and once he could, he’d run away for good.
Then he’d become another mother’s son.
He didn’t know that last part as he swam
across the pond to where he could climb out,
but he thought as he crawled along the dam
that that must be what Darna was about.
He thought some more, while making his return,
about the woman and about his dream.
He wanted now to see the compound burn.
He wanted to hear his attackers scream.
He thought all during his recovery
about how Darna fit into his plan,
which still involved, as far as he could see,
becoming, in a sense, an inside man.
These thoughts were on his mind as he prepared
a word of thanks for coming to his aid,
within which he most generously shared
where he would be if they need be repaid.
He couldn’t leave this for them in a note.
Okay, he could, but there would be no point.
No one around could read a word he wrote.
Well, Ciral could, but he’d have blown the joint.
©2010 Louis A. Merrimac
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