No one would have believed her. That was fine
because she wasn’t telling anyone.
There was no one to tell.
Where would she have looked for someone to tell?
Nearest town was about a two hour drive;
nearest neighbor an hour.
Youngest daughter of a farm family
backed up against the edge of God-knows-where,
she had long ago learned
to keep anything to herself that was
unexpected and not a disaster.
She, for a while, thought
they knew, and silently tolerated
her nightly climb down the fast growing pines
of the tall dark windbreak.
Later she decided they didn’t know,
and wouldn’t guess because none of them would
or could have thought of it.
The first time he came by,
she hung back under the trees, in shadow.
It was no use. She still knew he saw her.
They just looked at each other for a while,
then he turned his back and left, across fields
and into the forest.