I'm finding myself now growing up and moving on from childhood: a childhood seeped in tradition and culture, cultivated by the people, not a location. From Fort Sam Houston to Fort Benning, Schofield Barracks, and Leavenworth, every place had the same familiar sense as the last. As I grow out of this childhood now, and my life takes a new form, I find myself dwelling in these memories, these specific reminders of the childhood I treasure. These are only some of the little moments I'll...

They pull themselves into what they cannot see (Sea) pond, or river at all The celestial uncontrollable Which demands a Dance, this chaotic Impossible Request requires Perfection that cannot be achieved From the methodic pattern A flowing pace to Contradict, to meet The tides rising falling, Swing forward, and back Never the same stroke twice; And done again and again, The rhythm of a life Of one who doesn’t stand on stable Ground, new water is rushing and Restarts the stroke, Which never...

“121!” Nina shouts out another trail marker, but her originally peppy, satisfied tone has worn off into a blunt statement of fact. One marker in 10 minutes, yep, seems about right. This hike will never end. My stomach is pinched by the hip strap of my bag that I pulled too tightly to myself, my shoes get increasingly heavy with every “not–so–dry” patch of mud I step into. I’d rather just stop here and sleep, there’s no point to this anyways. Maybe we took a wrong turn, I haven’t heard a...