Oceans and lakes. Morning looks a certain way on the water. Gulf of Mexico. The southern experience. No matter if Northwest Florida, Alabama, Mississippi even Louisiana. Sunrise on a new day opens with smells of grasses and pines even salts of the ocean mixed with sounds of life coming alive. Birds flying chirping making sense only to themselves.
Her name was….I called her Jojo.
Looked up to the woman I married, she begged to watch our son. For over seven years watched her grow. Returning home from war, I became a single man and found Jojo a new woman.
Six months with the Emerald Coast to our side we rode the bike hours after hour every day always leading to the nights. The time spent with Jojo felt right The experience of her was remarkably renewed. The motorcycle was new yet felt as if we had ridden for years. With Jojo, once again I became a man. The thing is, I don’t know if she loved me.
Tripped me over spinning off in a direction never expected. Must be trapped in what was then, for now, she wants no more. Why was the thought of finding Jojo so damned possible?