Deep Heart’s Core
By Tim Mead
“For peace comes dropping slow…” Rich sits on the porch looking out over ridge after tree-covered ridge. A mountain top does as well as a lake isle.
* * * *
Old mountains. Older than the Rockies. Rounded off. No crags. Green fading into blue as far as you can see. Old hills. Old man. Hard to believe this is a half a day’s drive from where he grew up. That was an eon ago. Young. A different person.
After the war there was a sense the world was right again. Even the pop songs seemed to be upbeat, optimistic, full of the sense that life was good.
About the ninth grade he figured out something was wrong. He just didn’t get excited looking at the girls. For him, it was all about boys. He didn’t even know a word for people like him. So he supposed if he ever g
