“I hope he comes home safely.”
A week later, the scout returns.
His eyes sparkle as he gives an enthusiastic account,
in Technicolor detail,
of his brushes with danger,
The sharp rock that cut his foot,
“Where were his shoes!”
The burning branch in his hair,
“What was his head doing in the fire?”
The cut he got from his knife,
“He should be more careful!”
And his encounters with wildlife,
“Where were his leaders!”
The scout, finished with his accounts,
proudly displays his “battle scars”
as his younger siblings admiringly gape in awe.
While his mother, pale and shaken,
retreats to another room.
She consoles herself that
he doesn’t look too damaged,
and vows that,
“He’ll never go again!”
At least till next time!