They sometimes have a brief pause freeze on their faces.
Maybe they were talking about the future, maybe they were mentioning baby shoes, pink or white, or with those lights that flash when they pound against the dirt.
Maybe they were discussing a song, and how someday they would pick up the guitar, and play away the mosquitos while sitting on uneven blocks of wood.
A far away look, like scanning a memory or a hope of some thing and a wondering-- will this be mine? Do I deserve this joy? Am I able to design my life and maybe then they either look down or away or maybe they still gaze into the fire weighing what their minds will allow them to dream of.
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