The Scout

He wept.

She was faint, so
He picked her up and cradled her
He ran a hand across her matted hair

The time had finally come
And he had found her
And she had recognized him

Would she love him?

He carried her away.
She slept, and he whispered assurance to her.
His fingers knew her bruises and scrapes
He worked out the burs and combed out the snarls
Sponged her skin clean and washed her clothing

Out of his provisions he took oil and linen
And after he had oiled and wrapped her feet
He covered her with his cloak

When she awoke later
It was slowly
Something inside her realizing safety

And
Turning like a child in its blanket
She opened sleepy eyes to look for him.